You Might Even End Up Happy
by macmillanluv
Summary: The story formerly known as Bucky and Pearl. Recently unemployed and good at bad decisions, Pearl Palmer starts a new job with The Avengers. Her first assignment? Babysitting a homicidal, possibly suicidal assassin. Her boss? An arrogant billionaire. Family happens; love finds you. The universe has a wicked sense of humor.
1. The Interview

This is a story of a girl named Pearl, who meets a fucked up guy named Bucky, who's locked up by his best friend Steve, who works with a guy named Tony. This will have foul language, sex, alcohol and violence, but nothing extremely graphic. This also features Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff quite heavily, and other Avengers to a lesser extent. I hope you like it, some people seem to, but I'm not against criticism so if you've got any of that, let me know. English is not my native tongue, but I'm pretty good, so this should at least be legible.

This used to be titled **Bucky and Pearl** , but I've changed the title and I've been doing some rewrites as well as of _September 2018._ Nothing major has changed story-wise, I've just added some scenes, but because of that the reviews and chapters don't line up correctly anymore.

* * *

 **YOU MIGHT EVEN END UP HAPPY**

 ** **CHAPTER ONE  
**** ** **THE INTERVIEW****

* * *

"I'm not sure you'd be right for this." Natasha flips through the folder she has in her hands as she talks, as if she needs it to make a decision. As if she doesn't know Pearl.

"Why?" There's an irritation in Pearl's voice.

Natasha slams the folder shut and places her hands on it. "It's a desk job. A glorified secretarial position."

Pearl knows Natasha, who's wearing her worn-out black leather jacket with a black top and black jeans and looks like she's in a motorcycle gang, only agreed to interview her to talk her _out_ of wanting the job at the New Avengers Facility. She might have hair whiter than the sun, but she's no dumb blonde and she is not about to give up, even if she thinks the name New Avengers Facility is literally the stupidest name for anything in the history of the world, ever, and hopes they'll change it before printing calling cards. Though the apartment she lives in is smaller than a minivan and located in Brooklyn, and not even the cool part of Brooklyn with all the hipsters and their bikes and mustaches, it's not cheap. Pearl needs a job, almost any job will do, and no government run agency wants to hire her—she knows, she tried them all. One little mistake and it's like she's Monica Lewinsky.

They're sitting across from each other in a small room that seems to have been renovated quite recently. Everything, meaning two chairs and one floor lamp in the corner, is new and white and Pearl suspects she's the first person to sit in the uncomfortable metal chair that keeps digging into her back through the crisp white button-up shirt she's wearing paired with a black high-waist skater skirt. The room echoes when Pearl taps her high-heeled shoe to the gray tile. A nervous habit.

"I know most of the software you guys have and I'll learn the rest," Pearl says. She stops tapping her shoe when Natasha glances at it and begins fiddling with the rings on her right hand instead.

Natasha runs her hand through her short red hair and hesitates for a split second. "You're more than qualified. A lot more. Going from the field to this... I don't know. You'd get bored."

"Trust me. Field work is the last thing I want to do right now." Pearl believes herself when she says it, but Natasha probably doesn't since she has a built-in lie detector that is annoyingly accurate and her gaze seems to be drilling into Pearl's dark blue eyes.

"Alright. So, the CIA booted your ass because of the affair but I spoke with your former supervisor and he thinks very highly of your work."

Of course Natasha brings it up, forcing Pearl to relive the shame once again. It was different when they were at that cute bar on Mulberry Street, the one with all the indie beers, drunk off their asses, laughing about the whole thing. That's the kind of situation where Pearl doesn't mind talking about it or making fun of herself for being so god-damn idiotic, but in the light of day it's not even funny. It's really just sad.

"Well, he has every reason to. And thank you, so much, for reminding me of my poor decisions, especially when you know I didn't do it on purpose." Pearl tries to remain calm and collected but there's a definite bitterness in her voice. Natasha is the one that wanted to hold an official, serious interview and now she's the one steering the conversation off the rails. Clearly Natasha does not understand that this job is everything to Pearl. Her former co-worker Lenny, the guy that was fired for accidentally leaking classified information to the Russians, has already offered her a job at the mall in New Jersey, where he runs the security team. Pearl does not want to become Lenny. She does not want to be like the guy that leaves his top-secret USB drive on the table at a Starbucks while going to pee.

"You kind of did. You just didn't know he was married."

Pearl still maintains that it should've been his job on the line and not hers as she didn't know about the wife and the two kids and the white picket fence, and yet she was the one that got fired while he got a two-week suspension, that was really just a paid vacation. Being the head of a department really worked out well for him.

Pearl scratches the bridge of her nose. "Yeah, anyway, I'm celibate now."

"Oh, well then, congratulations. The job is yours." Natasha looks and sounds super serious as she gets up and extends her arm.

"You've become quite the comedian," Pearl says dryly, getting up, sure that the chair has left permanent markings on her back, and shakes the redhead's hand.

Natasha's serious expression falters and a smile curves up onto her lips. "That whole celibacy thing? I give it a month, tops."

Pearl smirks, making Natasha laugh and roll her eyes. "Alright, let's get you settled in."

They walk down a white hallway with lots of doors that have round windows like cartoon submarines always seem to have. Pearl tries to peek into all the rooms as Natasha babbles on about the boring details of the job. Pearl catches glimpses of high-tech equipment and weapons but most rooms seem to be filled with boxes on top of boxes and surrounded by even more boxes.

Natasha catches Pearl looking, which isn't surprising as Pearl is hardly being subtle, jumping from one wall to another, almost sticking her nose against the windows. Natasha motions towards the boxes. "Those are old SSR and SHIELD files. They need to be digitized and you'll be in charge of handling it."

"Neat." Pearl is not even being sarcastic as it actually sounds awesome, rifling through old files from sixty or seventy years ago and getting paid for it.

Natasha keeps walking, but Pearl spots something in one of the rooms that isn't a box but rather a dark figure. A person. The door has a keypad just like the other doors but its frame's been reinforced with steel and it's bolted shut with a metal bar. Three security cameras point towards the door.

A man inside sits on a bench, staring at the wall. He's wearing a gray sweater and matching joggers and the whole outfit reminds Pearl of the clothes inmates wear, or at least wore the last time she visited a prison, and they're terribly ugly and ill-fitting. His long, dark hair drapes around his face and hangs over his eyes and his beard has not been shaved for a while and he really looks like a hobo, but Pearl doesn't think a simple homeless man would warrant three security cameras and a heavy duty door.

The man suddenly looks up, making Pearl almost stumble over her own legs out of surprise. He stares at her with his blue eyes and when she looks away, he seems to track her movement. Natasha notices Pearl has stopped walking and she walks back and she does not look pleased with her pursed lips and crossed arms.

"Let's go."

"But what-"

Pearl motions her head towards the window and Natasha quickly glances inside and back at Pearl with the serious look that Pearl knows really well that makes Natasha's lips look really full and her eyes are really intense like she's on the cover of Vogue, but then her brows furrow and her lips part a little and she looks back inside. And back at Pearl. And back at the man. He's still staring at Pearl and he looks sort of scary and intense and blinks about once every two minutes, which is weird, but the clothes really help make him less intimidating. Pearl runs her fingers through her curls and his eyes lock onto her hand and she smiles, making him blink and his eyes open slightly wider than before, and she doesn't even know what compelled her to smile but she smiles at everyone and it kind of reminds her of the time she smiled at the old Korean man, who runs the convenience store on her block, and he added her as a Facebook friend and started sending her pictures of his ass.

Pearl runs after and catches up with Natasha who is now quickly stomping her way down the hall. "Who is it?"

"The Winter Soldier." Natasha shows her key card to the reader by the door at the end of the hall and they go through.

"Wow."

The information of his identity definitely makes him more terrifying and Pearl wonders if the metal bar and a few pieces of steel are really enough to keep him in confinement. And why is he not dead or in prison? Natasha has on her mission face so Pearl decides not to bother her with questions, even though a million new ones keep popping up every second.

They walk down another hallway until Natasha opens up a door to her left and ushers Pearl in. Sitting by a round table, that's covered with blueprints to what looks like a ship of some sort, is Captain America and Sam Wilson, aka The Falcon, who Pearl recognizes from photos on Natasha's phone. He's not wearing his wings so Pearl doesn't think he should be called Falcon, after all she never calls Natasha Black Widow, but maybe Captain America should always be called Captain America. As a way to respect him, since the elderly should be treated with respect and he's about a hundred years old, even if he's well preserved and even more dashing in person than in any picture or video she's seen.

The guys turn towards the door.

"Cap, I'd like you to meet our newest employee," Natasha says and pushes Pearl to get closer.

Captain America gets up and so does Sam Wilson. Captain America smiles and his teeth are whiter than white, even whiter than Pearl's hair, and straight like a street in Germany. "Your friend, right?"

Natasha nods, sort of. They've known each other for years but calling them friends would be an exaggeration. They're really more like casual drinking buddies who only meet when there's something major going on that requires the consumption of alcohol, like getting fired for sleeping with your boss or having your whole agency turn out to be corrupt and full of terrorists or when your almost-boyfriend, the huge green monster, flies off in an invisible jet and goes off the grid.

Pearl extends her hand and Captain America shakes it and Pearl is sure her palm is sweaty. "Pearl Palmer. It's an honor to meet you, Captain."

He gives her a funny look and Pearl wants to slap her sweaty palm to her forehead for sounding like a huge dork. "Just call me Steve."

Sam Wilson also introduces himself and they do the necessary handshakes and the what's ups and the how are yous, and they offer Pearl a seat and a cup of coffee. She tries to act casual, as if it's just another day in her everyday life, having coffee with a bunch of superheroes, even though she doesn't even like coffee and only said yes not to be rude. She pours in milk and tons of sugar and hopes that somehow a Starbucks barista will materialize in front of her with a can of whipped cream and whatever else they put in those coffee drinks that are nothing like actual coffee.

"Funny thing happened. We walked past Bucky's room and he looked up and started staring at Pearl," Natasha says and the mood in the room becomes tense and nobody laughs and Natasha should really look up the definition of a funny thing since apparently that was not it.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks and glances over to Pearl, who's trying to sip her drink that's actually just been made worse by too much milk and sugar and is starting to taste like diabetes.

"Saw it with my own eyes."

Pearl looks up from her coffee cup to see all three staring at her intently like she's a ghost or something else incomprehensible though she's not sure if ghosts would even be a big deal these days when there's super soldiers and Hulks and gods from other dimensions running around. "What's the big deal? He's a man, men stare."

Pearl instantly regrets saying it as it makes her sound like a brainless, conceited bimbo and she doesn't want to come off that way, at least not in front of this crowd, but it's true. With her big curls, bright lipstick and skimpy outfits Pearl is no stranger to getting attention from men. Sam lets out the weirdest snort of a laugh Pearl has ever heard and she doesn't know if it's because he gets it and maybe he is a part of these men that sometimes stare at women, or if it's because she's sounding like a silly little girl and he wonders what she's even doing in their building.

"See, the thing is, Bucky never looks at anyone, ever," Steve says.

They keep calling the Winter Soldier by this name, Bucky, and Pearl thinks it sounds vaguely familiar but the CIA never had a real name for the guy and most people, Pearl included, thought he was a ghost story so it's definitely not something she read in his file.

"Who's Bucky?"

Steve explains the whole story from the beginning, starting with who is Bucky Barnes and explaining how his death turned out to not be a death at all and the assassinations and freezing his body and how he has some sort of bionic metal arm and everything in between and more. Pearl remembers something about The Howling Commandos and Bucky Barnes from the history books she hated reading in school. Steve doesn't know the details of what they did to Bucky to make him an assassin or how he exactly survived falling off the train, but he believes his friend is still in there even if right now he seems to be in full-on Winter Soldier mode.

"The first few days he was here, he tried to kill us but after that he hasn't responded to anything. Doctor says he's in some type of shock."

"Isn't it a bit harsh, keeping him locked up like that?" Pearl asks and notices Natasha's lips pursing and Sam's eyes shifting around and he quickly grabs his cup of coffee, though it's probably empty by now, and sips it very carefully.

The calm look on Steve's face becomes harder and his voice tighter. "He's my friend."

"I know, it's just it seems like it's not really working and maybe you should-", Pearl says before Steve interrupts her.

"He'll remember me, eventually, and before that happens I'm not going to let HYDRA get to him," he says, raising his voice and his eyes are drilling into Pearl's and she really wants to look away and her mind is telling her it would be smart to look away but some whacked part of her brain won't let her.

Natasha tugs on Steve's sleeve and motions towards the door and they go outside and Pearl knows they're talking about her. Maybe she crossed a line, questioning Steve's decision to lock up Bucky, but to her it sounds strange and counter-productive to put someone, that's been basically held prisoner, into a locked room and expect him to start warming up to you. Pearl hears muffled sounds through the door and it sounds like an argument. She sighs.

"What do you think is happening, because I think I'm getting fired and I'd like another option?" Pearl asks Sam. He chuckles.

"Why do you think you'll get fired?" Sam asks and it's like he hasn't even been paying attention to anything. Pearl fears her lack of filter will cost her the job and if it doesn't, she's certainly off to a rocky start.

"I'm annoying and intrusive."

"True, but he needed that reality check."

Sam keeps sipping his coffee and Pearl stares at the door even though she's dying to ask if he's just using the coffee to get out of uncomfortable situations.

The door opens and Natasha walks in, looking smug, followed by Steve who mostly looks pissed off but also kind of defeated. He looks like he has something to say but he doesn't say anything so Natasha gives him a little nudge and after blowing some air through his nostrils, he speaks.

"Alright, Pearl. I've decided to take your advice and try something new."

Pearl smiles widely for already having a positive impact on the work environment, though Natasha probably did help, and the possibilities flash through her head. Maybe they'll get some kind of a trauma counselor for Bucky or give him the freedom to come and go as he pleases and take him places he might remember or maybe hypnosis or something. Her expression quickly falters as Steve finishes his sentence.

"I'm sending you in to talk to Bucky."


	2. One Blink For Bucky

**CHAPTER TWO  
** **ONE BLINK FOR BUCKY**

* * *

Pearl is stupid.

A normal person would be scared to go in and talk to the man responsible for the most notorious assassinations of the last fifty-something years, but Pearl is not scared, which makes her kind of an idiot in her own mind. She's standing outside of The Winter Soldier's room with plastic bowls of food with plastic utensils on a plastic tray and she's sort of concerned with the amount of plastic, but also finds it sort of amusingly optimistic, as if the only thing stopping Bucky from trying to kill her is the fact that he doesn't have a fork or a knife or a metal tray to jam through her neck. As if he doesn't have a bionic arm with super strength, and God knows what else, but at the same time he has such a tragic story that just melts Pearl's heart and makes it impossible to be scared of him even though she probably should.

This isn't how she expected her first day of work to go and she doesn't know what Natasha thinks will happen when she enters the room or why she came up with this idea in the first place. What is Pearl even going to say to Bucky? She's not a therapist or a trauma counselor or a doctor or any of the sort, and just because Bucky happened to look at her doesn't mean she'll get anything out of him, if even Steve, the only person that knew Bucky before he was turned into a mindless killing machine, failed to get anything more than blind rage out of him, but Natasha seems confident that something is going to happen as she stands next to Steve with her arms folded and her foot tapping the floor as she waits for Steve to unlock the locks on the door.

"You ready?" Steve asks as he lifts up the metal bar on the door. He seems quite hesitant about the whole thing, too, and he's not as good at hiding it as Pearl is.

"Totally." She sounds confident and she might really be ready, but she still hasn't got any idea of how to even begin a conversation with Bucky. She has absolutely no experience with these kind of situations.

"If something happens, we'll be right here," Sam says and reminds Pearl that there is a camera inside Bucky's room that he'll be monitoring. Natasha smiles and it's that sort of annoying, smug smile that she does so well, and Pearl is convinced she's only doing this as payback for something but can't quite put her finger on what it could be as the list of possibilities is long.

Steve punches in the code to the keypad and opens the door and Pearl steps in with her tray. He closes the door behind her and she hears the locks clicking and the metal bar clonking and for a split second she thinks about how long it would take him to open the door again if Bucky decided to attack her, but she pushes the thought out of her head. He's hunched over on the bench with his elbows resting on his knees, holding his hands, both metal and flesh, to his face, staring at the floor but when the last lock clicks, he slowly lifts up his head and once again Pearl finds herself the target of his intense stare and now that she's much closer, she can see the dark circles under his eyes and the slight hollow of his cheeks. According to Steve, he hasn't been eating and has barely slept since arriving to the facility.

Pearl places the tray on the small, plastic table to her right. He sits up straighter and his eyes follow her and she can sort of see some confusion in them, hidden behind all the anger, but it could be just her own wishful thinking of wanting to see something more.

"Hi. I'm Pearl."

Unsurprisingly, he doesn't answer. Pearl looks around the room and sees a bed and a door to what she assumes is a bathroom and not much else, but it's still better than most prisoners get to live in. It's clean and the bed looks soft and the bathroom has a door and everything. Bucky's eyes are still fixed on her and it's kind of unnerving, but it doesn't seem as though he'll start a murderous rampage anytime soon so she feels confident enough to continue.

"Can I call you Bucky? Or do you prefer James?"

He blinks. Just to make her own life easier, Pearl decides that it's a code. One blink for Bucky, two blinks for James.

"You don't talk, that's fine. I'll just talk. Do you mind if I sit down?"

Yet again, no answer, not even a blink this time, and it's beginning to feel a little like that time the CIA therapist, who Pearl had to see every two months thanks to company policy, made her pretend an empty chair was her mother and talk to it to sort out her problems and make her a better person or whatever. At least Bucky is a living, breathing human being—or maybe a cyborg but Pearl can't remember what really counts as a cyborg—and not an ugly 1980's velvet armchair, though he might be on the same level as one as far as communication skills go.

"I'll take that as a no."

Pearl sits down on the right side of the bench, leaving some breathing room between them, and crosses her legs. Bucky observes her every move and Pearl feels really small sitting next to him, because he's tall and wide and she's kind of short and dainty and he's dark and mysterious and she's really bright with her hair and pale skin. Pearl points towards the food on the tray.

"I brought you food, if you want to eat something. It's tomato soup. I'm not much of a soup person myself, so I'll understand if you don't eat it, but they didn't have anything else."

Bucky glances at it briefly before turning to stare at the door. Pearl is not sure whether to be relieved that she's no longer under such intense observation or worried that she's lost the only contact they had and he's losing interest, but she's not going to let a bowl of tomato soup be the reason she fails so she changes the subject.

"So, I've been told a lot about you and I thought maybe you'd like to know something about me."

He gives no reaction but Pearl decides to start sharing the story of her life anyway, hoping it will at the very least bore him to sleep if nothing else. It wouldn't be the first time she's put people to sleep with her ramblings and if it works, she'll at least accomplish something.

"I was born in Ohio but luckily I got away and now I live in New York, Brooklyn actually, I know you lived there once upon a time, too. I'm a former CIA agent."

Bucky turns back to look at her after the last few words, interrupting her train of thought, and she smiles, and now there's definite confusion in his eyes as they travel from her head to toe and his brows kind of furrow and he just looks all-around suspicious, like he doesn't believe a word she's saying. Pearl is used to these kind of reactions as she used to get them all the time, especially from the suit-wearing, conservative senior agents she was assigned to work with, but Bucky's expression still makes her laugh a little.

"I know, right? I don't really look like one but that's what made me a really good spy. I look just stupid enough to not get caught."

Bucky raises one eyebrow and it's clear he's still debating whether to believe her or not. Pearl is just so happy she's getting a reaction, any reaction, that she doesn't even care if he believes her.

"Anyway, that went bust, so now I work here. This is actually my first day and, uh, you're my first assignment."

She looks at him while she speaks and it's like something's changed and he's no longer observing her or staring at her, rather he seems to be looking at her, listening to what she's saying and not just trying to determine if she's a friend or foe. His expression is softer than before, more relaxed and his eyes aren't as narrow, and Pearl can kind of see the man featured in the old pictures Steve showed her earlier, but he's missing the spark in the eyes that the Bucky in the pictures seemed to have.

"Now, where was I? Right, talking about myself. I'm good at that. I live alone in a little rat hole. I used to live in a much nicer place with a roommate but she got married and moved to Connecticut and I couldn't afford it anymore. And she was kind of weird, too, her only passion in life was to find a man and get married and have kids and then just stop working and stay at home and bake cookies. I guess that's not so weird for you, though, you grew up when most women were like that."

She continues babbling in her typical lighthearted manner even though he's still not responding in any way, but once Pearl starts talking it's hard to make it stop and it seems to be doing something to him as he continues listening intently to the pointless words coming out of her mouth.

"I kind of want to get a dog but I'm never home and I've seen dog houses bigger than my apartment, so I don't think it would be fair to the dog. At one point I really wanted a hedgehog, but then I was told they eat worms and even though you can apparently get frozen worms, I just couldn't handle dealing with it. I hate worms. And cats."

"You talk a lot." When Bucky finally speaks, his voice is raspy like he hasn't talked for a few days, which he hasn't, and Pearl wants to offer him water, but decides not to as she doesn't want to seem patronizing and he's more than capable of getting water for himself, but mostly because she's too busy processing the fact that he actually talked to her.

The corner of Pearl's mouth tugs up and she can't help it. This is the moment she will in the future refer to as 'the breakthrough.' "To be fair, you don't talk at all. But you're an excellent listener."

"You're not scared of me," Bucky says and it's not a question, it's a statement and he's kind of staring again and Pearl wonders if he's trying to freak her out, because if he is, it's kind of working.

"Should I be?" Pearl asks and stares back, not letting on.

Bucky shakes his head and his long hair falls in front of his face so he sweeps it back and then looks down at his feet. He blinks slowly. "I don't know. He is."

"Steve?"

Bucky nods and his voice cracks a little. "He's scared I'm not the same."

He fiddles with the joints on his metal fingers as he keeps his head down and his eyes keep shifting around the room and it occurs to Pearl that he's nervous. All this time she's been thinking he doesn't want to be here and is angry about being a prisoner, but he's not angry. He's scared.

She places her hand on top of his much bigger one and wraps her fingers around it, making him flinch but also stop the fiddling and the tips of her fingers touch the cold metal of his other hand. "Of course you're not the same. You'll never be the same again. And that's fine."

Bucky looks up at her, looking a bit like a lost puppy, and he swallows something in his throat and it's clear he's choking up a little, trying to get words to come out. "I don't even recognize my own name."

"What did they call you? HYDRA, I mean?" Pearl asks and Bucky gets a weird look in his eyes, they sort of lose focus and she immediately thinks she's said the wrong thing and gone too far too soon, but thankfully he snaps out of it.

He takes a deep breath. "The Asset."

The name makes him sound like an object or a piece of real-estate.

"That's fucked up," Pearl says and Bucky just kind of nods and she can almost see the imagery flashing behind his eyes that are fixed onto a spot on the floor. She gives his hand a little squeeze, waking him from thought. She doesn't want him to think too much about the HYDRA stuff, especially now that he's just begun talking and she already regrets asking about it at all. "Do you remember anything of your life before that?"

He shakes his head again. "Bits and pieces. It comes and goes."

"Steve could help you remember," Pearl suggests, as it's the most logical solution, after all. Steve was there for most of Bucky's life and while Pearl knows Bucky is never going to be the same Bucky he used to be, as the kind of stuff he probably went through is the kind of stuff that says with you for the rest of your life, she's convinced that he can become a functioning human being, or cyborg, again.

"I don't want his help." Bucky's jaw is clenched and he looks her directly in the eyes as he says it.

"Why?"

He yanks his hands away from hers and now his voice is tight and slightly louder than before and the look in his eyes is the kind that Pearl doesn't want to mess with, even if she can't understand why Bucky would want to shut Steve out and his answers are not giving much clarity. "Because I don't want it."

"Alright. We'll think of another strategy, but right now, you have to sleep." Pearl remains calm, not wanting to push anything on him that he's not ready for, gets up and knocks on the door to let the others know she's ready to come out. The locks start rustling behind it.

Bucky climbs into bed. "You'll be back?"

His tone sounds almost hopeful and Pearl can't help but say yes before slipping out of the door, but as soon as the door closes behind her and she sees Steve and Natasha and their expecting faces, the reality hits her and she fears she might be in over her head. It was all fine and dandy when he didn't speak, but now that he's talking, and seems to only want to talk to her, it's like Pearl has all this responsibility to ask the right questions and say the right things to make him better. Now she's definitely scared.


	3. Don't Tell Steve

****CHAPTER THREE  
**** ** **DON'T TELL STEVE****

* * *

"What did he say?" Steve asks right away when Pearl steps out of Bucky's room. She knows they've seen the whole thing on camera and now she's glad to know there's no microphone in the room, partly because she feels foolish for her own stupid ramblings and partly because she thinks Bucky should have some privacy to deal with his baggage. Natasha stands next to him with her arms folded and is clearly trying to read Pearl's facial expressions for information, but Pearl taps into her super spy powers and gives away nothing.

Pearl takes a deep breath, trying to get at least a few seconds to process what happened and how it happened and how he actually talked to her and seemed to take kindly to her, and also trying to think of a way to tell Steve and Natasha about it without revealing too much. "He remembers you, at least sort of, and he remembers some parts of his life, but it comes and goes. Tomorrow I'll try to get more information."

Steve looks hesitant and like he was expecting her to say something more. "Thanks, but I think I should do the talking from now on."

"Uh, yeah, about that." Pearl hesitates. This is the part she wanted to leave out entirely but it quickly became impossible to. Steve raises an eyebrow. "He kind of doesn't want to see you right now."

Steve's face goes from hesitant to heart-broken to annoyed in a nanosecond and the irritation in his voice is clear and the volume slightly louder. "What? Why?"

"He wouldn't say." Pearl says with a shrug, lying a little, but looking into Steve's eyes so he'll hopefully be fooled. Technically Bucky did not give a reason for not wanting Steve's help, and Pearl doesn't know if Bucky was right when he said the thing about Steve being scared but if it's true, he doesn't need the extra pressure of Steve's presence as he tries to recover.

Steve breaks the eye contact and doesn't press for further information. He rubs the nape of his neck and seems kind of uncomfortable with the situation, but Pearl gets it. It can't be easy to have your best friend reject you.

"You think you'll be able to help him?" Steve asks.

Pearl shrugs. "He kind of asked me to come back, so I have to try."

The next morning, Pearl gets up super early and arrives at the facility at 6.36 am. She parks her yellow Vespa scooter between the wall and a shiny, cobalt blue sports car, that is probably the most expensive car Pearl has ever seen though she doesn't know much about cars, and it has doors that probably open backwards or upwards or something cool like that and tinted windows and everything. The license plate reads STARK 18.

She grabs her bag, and the bag of muffins and bagels she bought earlier from a cute little bakery down the street from her apartment, from the basket that's tied to the back of her scooter and heads to the door. She rummages through her bag, looking for her key card but when she finally finds it and is about to show it to the reader by the door, the door opens and Tony Stark walks out. He's looking snappy as always in a charcoal Tom Ford suit and he stops right in front of her and he looks like he's expecting Pearl to say something, but she can't seem to get a word out of her mouth, so instead she just waves her key card in his face and smiles nervously while her brain is screaming at her to not stare like an idiot and say something. After all, this is the guy who is probably paying her salary.

"Good morning. Do I know you?" he asks, holding the door open with his foot.

"Uh, no, mister Stark, It's nice to meet you. I'm Pearl."

She has her huge handbag and key card in one hand and the big bag of baked goods in the other and she scrambles to free her right hand by stuffing the brown paper bag in the nook of her left arm. He looks amused and has a kind of half a smile on his face as she sticks out her right hand for him to shake while trying to balance all her stuff.

Stark takes her hand and shakes it firmly. "Rogers mentioned something about you."

As they break from the handshake, she leans on the door to shuffle around her things again. Stark walks to his car, glancing over at Pearl's Vespa and looks back at her with one eyebrow raised. "Nice wheels."

Pearl smiles widely. She doesn't even care that it was sarcasm, Tony Stark just commented on her Vespa, she got a discount from the cute guy that works at the bakery and found twenty dollars in the pocket of her jeans. Her day is really shaping up to be awesome. She drops off her bag and jacket in the big living room type area, that desperately needs more furniture than just one big couch and tv, and says good morning to Sam, who's making coffee in the kitchen, and allows him to choose from the bag of baked goodies before heading to see Bucky.

"Good morning," Pearl says cheerfully as she enters Bucky's room and closes the door behind her. He's sitting on the bed, hunched over and he doesn't react in any way to her walking in.

She walks closer. "Bucky?

When she's within reach, he jumps up and grabs her by the jaw, nearly lifting her up, and she feels his metal fingers digging into her skin and the pain is horrible, not the worst she's ever felt, but definitely somewhere between having dental work done with no local anesthesia and having a broken rib, and she screams from the top of her lungs. She drops the bag of muffins and bagels trying to push him away and manages to shove her tiny hands into his face and tries to dig her red nails into his skin, but he just grabs both of her arms with no effort and twists them away. He's looking directly at her face but his eyes are not focused on anything and it's like he's been hypnotized or something. Pearl hears the locks of the door rustling behind her.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" His voice is almost robotic and Terminator-like with no inflection and it's unlike anything Pearl has ever heard in real life and combined with the expressionless face, not to mention the death grip, it's seriously freaking her out.

"Bucky! It's me, Pearl!" She manages to spit out the words between the metal fingers that are pressing on her lips.

The door flies open and Sam busts in, shouting something Pearl can't quite make out as the whole thing happens so fast, and Bucky lets go of Pearl, who's been standing on her toes and she stumbles and falls back but Sam manages to catch her. Bucky's looking at his hands like they're possessed by demons and he looks at her and his eyes are so wide and full of fear, they definitely aren't dead or unfocused anymore, and his face looks horrified and completely pale. He backs up against the wall, shaking his head furiously and slides against the wall to the floor.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks with both his hands on Pearl's arms. She turns her head and sees Sam giving Bucky a deadly stare. She nods and he lets go.

Pearl takes a few steps towards Bucky and swats away Sam's hand when he tries to stop her. She speaks really softly even though she's pretty sure the danger has passed. "Bucky?"

He's slumped over on the floor with his eyes closed, still shaking his head and his hand is shaking, too, as he's pulling at his hair. Pearl kneels down beside him and grabs his hand and squeezes it to stop him from shaking. He opens his eyes only to glance at her quickly and turn away again and close them even tighter. "I don't- I'm so sorry. I can't-"

Pearl turns to Sam, whose brows are really scrunched up and he's holding one hand on his gun and his face says he clearly does not understand what's happening and thinks whatever is happening is crazy. "Sam, you can go."

"What? Are you crazy?"

Pearl has to admit, he kind of has a point. It takes a certain type of person to stay after an attack like that, but Pearl isn't really the type to give up after the first sign of trouble and if that make's her crazy then that's fine.

"Trust me, everything's fine."

Bucky is even more fucked up than she originally thought and her jaw hurts like hell and covering up the bruises will be a hell of a job, and it's not like she can go to Sephora and buy a better concealer without the sales assistant thinking she's a victim of domestic abuse. Everything's fine.

Pearl moves to sit next to Bucky with her back against the wall and Sam begins to leave, but not before muttering something under his breath, as if his thoughts on the matter weren't already made clear.

"Hey, Sam?" she calls out after him and he turns around at the door. "Don't tell Steve."

He looks like he's about to protest, but decides against it, probably because he doesn't even see the point anymore, and leaves with one last adverse opinion expressed with eye-rolling, head-shaking and barely spoken words.

"You should go," Bucky says quietly.

"What, because of that? That's not even the worst a guy has ever done to me."

There was her first boyfriend, Andy, who drunkenly pushed her off the hayride his dumb friends stole and she had to have surgery, and then there was the guy that tried to set her hair on fire on the subway last year and succeeded to the extent that she had to have three inches cut off. Both of those are definitely worse. Bucky turns to look at her and he's got kind of a pitiful and horrified look on his face and she doesn't want him to look like that and she curses herself for always trying to make things about her.

"Sorry, bad joke." Pearl smiles but Bucky does not look any better.

"I hurt you."

"But that wasn't you." She squeezes his hand again, harder, and looks him straight in the eye and tries to sound convincing. Bucky didn't attack her, the monster HYDRA turned him into did.

"It was and wasn't. I don't know anymore. This wasn't even the first time."

"Tell me about it." She watches as he blinks a few times and swallows something in his throat and tries to get the words out.

"When I first came here, I went to sleep and when I woke up and saw Steve, I tried to kill him. I was just HYDRA's machine and he was my mission."

While he talks, he places his metal hand on top of hers and squeezes. The metal is cold, the sentiment is not.

"But you came here willingly?" Pearl asks.

He nods. This is new information to Pearl. Steve never described how they got Bucky to come with them after finding him and she just assumed they knocked him out and locked him up.

"That's it. That's all that matters." It's not all that matters, but it's a start. It's like the first step of almost any recovery: admit you need help. Bucky does not look convinced and his eyes keep darting to his shoes. Pearl sticks her face closer to his. "Listen, you chose to do this. You're trying to fight your programming or whatever."

"How are you so optimistic?" he asks.

"I have complete faith that you can get better." It's a lie but she makes it convincing. Complete faith just sounds a whole lot better than 'I'm eighty percent sure you can get better' and Pearl needs to believe it almost as much as Bucky.

His face lights up, kind of. Like a tea light, not like the sun. "Yeah?"

"Totally. I have a plan and everything." She smiles and grabs the bag of muffins and bagels and forces him to eat a little bit. Then she gets up from the floor and signals Bucky to get on his feet.

"We're going to start with vigorous physical activity to work off our aggressions," Pearl explains the first part of her plan. Her CIA therapist was very fond of using exercise as a coping mechanism for anger.

Bucky looks around his small room. "Here?"

"No, silly. They have a gym here." Pearl starts unlocking the door with the keys she was given the day before.

"You're letting me out?"

Pearl shrugs as she opens the last latch on the door. "I don't really see the point in locking you up."

She opens the door and steps out, Bucky in tow, though he looks cautious, like somebody is going to jump him any second. They don't get very far before Sam appears again.

"What are you doing now?" He stands in the middle of the hallway and holds his hand on his gun again, and Pearl thinks it's a bit much.

"Going to the gym." In reality, they're going to get Pearl's gym clothes from her bag and some water bottles and drop off the rest of the bagels and the muffins in the kitchen before going to the gym, but Pearl thinks Sam probably doesn't want to hear all of that.

"You think that's a good idea?" he asks, eyeing Bucky from head to toe.

"I do," Pearl says sternly.

They stare at each other until Sam buckles and looks away. "Steve is not going to like this."

Pearl is pretty sure, like eighty percent sure, that Sam is under some kind of order to question everything she does but he doesn't care enough to really get into it so he just kind of gives up.

Pearl and Bucky start with some stretches and some laps around the gym and then move onto the punching bags. Bucky doesn't seem to think much about the plan so far, but he does what he's told and kicks and punches his own punching bag and Pearl watches him, while abusing her own bag with much less concentration, and he's definitely either working off aggression or developing more of it. His eyes are zoned in on the bag and he's hitting it with force, speed and precision.

Pearl aims a high kick towards her bag but she's interrupted when she spots Steve, leaning on the railing of the upper level of the gym, looking disgruntled with his best 'you're in trouble' face and it makes Pearl miss the bag and she kicks nothing but air instead. She tries to stop the momentum but ends up tripping over her own feet and falls on her ass while shouting a plethora of swear words, making Bucky snap out of his aggression bubble and burst out laughing at Pearl scrambling on the floor. He holds out his hand to help her up and tries to stop himself from chuckling. "I'm sorry for laughing."

"Don't be. It's nice to hear you laugh." Nice and completely unexpected. Pearl flashes a super wide smile at Bucky and he kind of chuckles nervously at it.

Pearl looks over to Steve, who looks even more surprised than she is and quickly exits before Bucky turns around to see what she's looking at. Pearl excuses herself for a second and runs to the staircase that leads to the upper level. Steve is waiting for her, leaning on the wall and his face looks mostly neutral and not angry but then again, even serial killers can look nice.

"I was going to yell at you for this." He doesn't sound mad, either.

"But?" Pearl asks, drawing out the word.

"It's been a long time since I heard Buck laughing." He looks... Happy?

Pearl smiles widely, showing her ugly gums in the process. "It's nice, right?"

"It is."

He's clearly trying not to smile but there's a kind of twinkle in his eyes. He shakes his head with a smile before heading out of the other door. "Just don't let him out of the building without asking me."

"Got it."


	4. Brooklyn

****CHAPTER FOUR  
BROOKLYN  
****

* * *

Bucky does not want to talk and it's seriously beginning to get on Pearl's nerves. They work out every morning and meditate every night and in between, as part of her three-fold plan to make Bucky whole again, Pearl wants to have real discussions about Bucky's issues but he never wants to talk. He gives her snippets of information, just little things that, when pieced together, do not form a cohesive story and so far, he hasn't even told her much beyond what she already knows from Steve's files. He acts almost like a normal guy, though a very quiet one, laughs occasionally at things and asks questions about Pearl's life to change the subject when she asks about his life as The Asset or his life in Brooklyn before the war, about the war or about Steve. She doesn't want to be pushy, but he's really not giving her any options as she sure as hell isn't going to let him keep things bottled up. If she learned one thing in therapy, it's that talking to someone, an empty chair or even a goldfish is _really_ freaking important.

It's been four whole days since Bucky attacked Pearl and the bruising on her jaw is becoming easier to conceal as time goes by. She's pretty sure if Steve knew about the incident, she would not be standing in the kitchen at the compound, making pasta for Bucky and herself, so she hasn't told him and isn't going to. Four whole days of Pearl spending almost every waking minute with him, only going home to sleep and change, and he can't open his mouth to tell her anything substantial. He hasn't even gone into full Asset mode anymore, and though Pearl is thankful for that, in some weird part of her brain she hopes something would happen to snap him out of the normalcy bubble he seems to be living in.

Pearl drains the spaghetti she's been cooking, fills up two plates and saturates the pasta with the homemade tomato sauce bubbling away on the stove. The two months she spent in Italy turned out to be a complete bust for the CIA, but at least she learned to make a damn good sauce. She brings the plates over to couch, where Bucky's nose is buried in a world history book with the years 1980 through 1990. Pearl keeps trying to explain to him that everything he could ever want to know is on the internet and he keeps refusing to use a laptop or any of the sort. He puts the book down and takes the plate and starts lapping food into his mouth like he's a starving orphan. Pearl places her plate onto the weird metal coffee table, that was delivered yesterday and is supposedly some great design piece according to Stark, and it makes a clinking sound.

"Tell me about HYDRA." Pearl is serious this time; this time, it's not a question, it's a demand.

Bucky raises his eyes from the plate and slowly chews his food and the wheels inside his head seem to be turning as he looks from the pasta to Pearl and back again. Finally he swallows. "What?"

"You heard me." She's staring straight at him.

"You know, I think I'm gonna get a soda." He puts down the plate and tries to get up from the couch but she grabs his arm, the metal one, and pulls him back down. He tries to avoid her focus by picking lint off of his sweater.

"You have to start dealing with your issues." Pearl raises her voice a little. She doesn't want to start yelling but it's like talking to a brick wall. He looks up at her. "I can get you a therapist if you don't want to talk to me."

Bucky's voice sounds defeated and he stammers the words. "I, uh, I thought I was doing better, with the meditation and the-"

"You are, but it's not enough. You can break as many punching bags you like and you can meditate to help you stay present, but that's not going to fix it. It helps, but it's just a band-aid when you really need stitches." Pearl tries to sound encouraging rather than pushy and is also super proud of the metaphor she just came up with and it's like she's a real therapist, but much younger and prettier than they normally are.

"Stitches meaning... Talking about it." Bucky doesn't seem very impressed by her metaphor but at least he got it.

"I think you're ready." Pearl smiles as warmly as she possibly can without looking like she's high or something, but he doesn't look convinced. "We'll start slow."

He raises an eyebrow. "With HYDRA? That's not starting slow."

"Well, tell me about what life was like before the war."

After slight hesitation, he talks. And he talks quite a bit and while he's talking, he makes Pearl wish she'd been alive in that time, and it's clear he remembers his early life vividly when he paints images of children playing ball in the streets of Brooklyn and how everybody in the neighborhood knew each others names and everything sounds like it's straight out of an old movie or a musical of some sort, where the men wear hats and women have perfectly curled hair and ironed clothing. He tells her about how his father used to take his mother dancing every Friday night and leave him in charge of the house, because he was the oldest of four kids, and about how his mother became a teacher when Bucky was fifteen and he had to take more responsibility for his siblings.

"And Steve was always like a brother to me." The corner of Bucky's lip turns upwards.

"Yeah?" Pearl asks, casually, even though on the inside she's dying to beam with joy. He never talks about Steve.

"He was such a scrawny little kid. I was always getting him out of fights." He's almost smiling but it quickly fades. "But that was a long time ago."

Pearl shrugs. "I don't think he's changed much."

"Yeah, well." He mumbles the words and shoves some pasta in his mouth. Apparently, that's the end of that conversation, but at least it's a start.

Pearl gets an idea, a great one at that, and jumps up from the couch. She grabs her phone from the table. "Finish your plate, I'll be right back"

She steps out into the hall and finds Steve's number in her phone and as the beeps invade her ear, she kind of still can't believe she has Captain America's phone number and she can just call him whenever and it's totally normal except that it's not. Steve picks up, interrupting Pearl's thoughts and makes her completely forget what she was actually calling about, but she recalls it quickly. Asking Steve if she could take Bucky to see Brooklyn, she expects him to say no and mentally prepares a long spiel on how it would do wonders for his recovery and how he's finally talking and they're getting somewhere and it would be a travesty to deny him the pleasure of seeing the place he has such wonderful memories from. And then he says yes. Straight away, no questions asked.

"What?" Pearl blurts out.

"I said yes. It's fine. I just needed to know, so I can arrange for Sam to take you and keep you guys safe."

Pearl is stunned. It's like all of a sudden Steve trusts her and it's weird and it's definitely another reason not to tell him about Bucky's hulk-out. She rushes to tell Bucky, but makes him change before they head out, because no matter how comfortable he says the ugly sweats are, she doesn't want anyone to mistake him for a hobo, which really might happen if he wore those outside, even if he has started shaving and showering regularly. She gives him jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that she found while rummaging around the closets, and they're probably Steve's, but he's in D.C and she doesn't think he'll mind, especially since he'll never find out. The weather is nice enough to not need sleeves, but Pearl figures flaunting the metal arm would be the opposite of what they want, which according to Sam, is to blend in.

Bucky takes the clothes and starts stripping down right in front of her and she looks at him, eyes wide with shock, and it occurs to her that he's the one that's sort of messed up and might be programmed so he doesn't need privacy to change or just doesn't remember normal social conduct, so she should be the one to turn around. So she does and then she kind of immediately regrets it, because if it doesn't bother him, why should it bother her and she missed a perfectly good opportunity to see a half-naked man out of politeness and he probably would've had a nice body, too. Damn.

"I'm ready."

She turns around and he's actually looking almost presentable, but it's just missing one thing, so she digs through her bag and pulls out a hair tie. "Here, put this in your hair."

"What? What is this?" He looks at the hair tie like it's from space or something, like how can he not know what it is, it's not even one of those new ones that look like phone cord, it's just a simple hair tie.

"It's a hair tie," she explains. "Here, I'll do it."

"What is this for?" Bucky asks as Pearl jumps behind him and makes him scoot down to tie his hair in a ponytail.

"It's a disguise." Really it's just to get the long mess, that he calls hair, out of his face, but it also works as a disguise. She reckons if HYDRA agents are out there trying to find Bucky, they're going to be looking for someone that's trying to cover up their face and not show it off, but she also thinks if they wanted to find him, they already would've. Mostly it's just to complete the look.

Pearl bounces back in front of him, and she kind of can't stop staring which makes him look at her funny and she snaps out of it. She always knew he was handsome, the ugly sweats and hair just did a good job of hiding it and now he's just there with his gorgeous blue eyes and with his hair pulled back, looking like a goddamn GQ cover.

Sam drives them to Brooklyn, right around Bucky's old neighborhood and for a whole hour they just walk and Bucky stops at every single intersection and looks around, and Pearl can't read his face to see if he's disappointed or pleased or just lost, and Sam walks five feet behind them, being a completely focused bodyguard in case HYDRA tries to kidnap Bucky, or at least that's what he's there for, but instead he keeps texting on his phone and Pearl hears small bursts of laughter every now and then, and when she turns around, he looks like he's been busted for stealing his father's dirty magazines; she knows he's texting a girl. They stop in front of a 7-Eleven and Bucky just keeps looking around, and Pearl is so happy she wore sneakers today, but also really irritated because Bucky hasn't said a word since they left the car.

"Are you looking for something? Like _your_ _house_?" she asks.

"No, I remember where it is." He keeps looking around until he points to an apartment building across the street. "There used to be a YMCA on that corner. I won three championships there."

"Boxing?" Pearl asks.

"Yeah."

He keeps walking.

Pearl doesn't know what to think. He doesn't sound happy and he also doesn't sound sad, but it definitely leans more on the sad side, and she's beginning to think coming to Brooklyn was a total waste of time. They walk another five minutes and stop in front of an old, three-story brownstone, or at least Pearl thinks it's a brownstone but she's not exactly an architectural guru so she could be wrong, but it's brown and it's beautiful and it looks like the houses she stumbles upon while browsing the internet that cost something ridiculous like three million dollars. Sam is still texting, but at least he's toned down the giggling.

Bucky inspects the house very carefully, looking it up and down, from close and far. "It's funny."

"What is?" Pearl asks and is now just assuming this is Bucky's old house since apparently words are overrated on this little stroll.

"Everything is so different, but this house hasn't changed." He looks at her and flashes a little smile. "I think we can go now."

"Really?"

That's it? She thought there would be more... Something. Talking or reminiscing, or something. Not just an hour of silence and staring at old buildings.

"Yeah."

They arrive back at the facility after a quick pit stop at the Burger King drive-through. Sam goes off to do whatever, like he always does if he's around because apparently Bucky's company is somehow depressing to him, and Pearl sinks herself into the couch, completely exhausted. Bucky barely said a word during the drive back and to Pearl it seems as though they're taking steps backwards, which was totally not the point.

He sits next to her. "Thank you for taking me there."

His voice sounds completely sincere, so apparently it wasn't a total waste of time, even if it wasn't what she expected. "No problem. You were very quiet."

He scratches the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry. I really did like it, it's just all so different."

"I know." She doesn't know, not really, how could she, but it seems like the right thing to say.

"Everybody I knew back then, they're dead now." He sounds serious, so Pearl sits up straight because no serious conversations should be had while your face is being swallowed by couch cushions.

"Most likely." It's a fact, there's no arguing, and giving her condolences seems wrong somehow. As if 'I'm sorry' helps. It usually doesn't.

"And everything I did, it's just forgotten or a small segment in a history book." He takes a deep breath. "You know, I remember every person I ever killed and I'm reading the books now and they're all in there and I keep realizing I've definitely done my part to make the world a horrible place."

"But that wasn't you."

"You keep saying that, but it doesn't make it okay." He sounds almost irritated, as if she doesn't get it. She gets it, he's torn up about the things he did and he's damaged, but it's not like he had a choice.

Pearl sighs. "Yeah, but you can't change the past. If you could, I know you'd go back and slit your own throat so they wouldn't find you alive."

He cringes. "That's morbid."

"But it's true. You're a good guy." If he wasn't, he wouldn't be so tortured by his actions. She leans a little closer. "Listen, some people are awful and they're always the ones that make the most difference in the world, but there's a lot of good stuff left."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely." She flashes a bright, white smile.

"Like what?" he asks, unconvinced.

"You know, babies and love and happiness. All that." She could've probably thought of better examples.

He shakes his head a little and smiles. "How are you so positive all the time?"

"Trust me, I'm not."


	5. It's Just Steve

**CHAPTER FIVE  
** **IT'S JUST STEVE**

* * *

Pearl hears high heels knocking on the hardwood floor, and it could be Natasha, it could be Wanda or it could even be Pepper, but whoever it is, is about to interrupt Bucky's very productive meditation session. Pearl is supposed to be meditating, too, but she can't help constantly peeking at Bucky, who's breathing in and breathing out and looking really peaceful with his eyes closed and his face completely relaxed, sitting opposite Pearl on the pink yoga mat she brought from home. She's just really happy he's actually getting into this meditation thing, after having some doubts in the beginning, and it seems he's actually getting something out of it. His eyes open as the footsteps come closer and closer and the peaceful look fades quickly when he sees her staring.

"You're doing it again." His brow is all scrunched up.

"Nuh-uh. Am not. Doing what?" She would probably be more convincing if she didn't sound like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar.

"Staring at me." Pearl swears the corner of his mouth is twitching.

She scoffs. "No. I just heard someone coming, so I opened my eyes. You know, you're really conceited."

He smiles and shakes his head and she knows he's not buying any of it, but it's fine and he doesn't seem to really mind, even though he likes to pretend to. Pearl turns her head towards the doorway and Natasha walks in and she's wearing an awesome pair of black boots, that look brand new and kind of like the ones Pearl has at home except more expensive and less stripper-like and her red hair looks extra vibrant and sleek like she's just come back from the salon. Natasha does a double-take on the pink yoga mat. "Can we talk?"

"Sure." Pearl gets up from the floor and follows Nat to the hallway. She crosses her arms. "You know, you interrupted our meditation."

Natasha raises an eyebrow and there's definite amusement in her voice. " _You're_ meditating?"

"It works for your boyfriend, so why not?" Pearl says with a shrug. Natasha once told her about all the stuff Bruce has done to keep from turning into the Hulk; it's actually how she got the idea in the first place, and even if she's not really the meditating type, it can't be that hard to believe.

"He's not my boyfriend."

So she keeps saying but Pearl doesn't believe it. Technically it might be true, but not really. They're obviously in love. Pearl rolls her eyes. "Whatever. So, you're back in town?"

"Yeah, and Steve was wondering if Bucky's ready to see him?" Natasha asks and Pearl wonders why this couldn't be handled over the phone, but she's so used to people running in and out of the building that the thought disappears as quickly as it appeared and besides, it's much nicer to talk face to face.

She snaps out of thought. "I'll have to ask."

Natasha leaves, and Pearl promises to text her an answer by the end of the day. She walks back into the living room, where Bucky is no longer meditating. Instead, he's leaning over the kitchen counter, eating what looks like a really disgusting sandwich, the kind with mayo and tuna that Sam keeps leaving in the fridge, and they stink up the whole place, but Bucky seems to love them so Pearl doesn't complain. At least not a lot.

He stops eating. "What?"

"Huh?"

"You look like you have something to say." He puts down the sandwich and stands up straight and Pearl curses her damn face for always giving everything away.

She fiddles with the bracelet on her right wrist. "Steve wants to see you."

"Oh."

Pearl was kind of expecting more of a reaction. She walks closer to him. "Yeah. How do you feel about that?"

He shrugs while tapping the counter with his fingers and he's clearly avoiding eye contact. "I don't know. Might be hard."

"Hard? Try going into the first grade with a name like Pearl Palmer when you can't pronounce the letter R. That's hard. Having a cup of coffee with your old pal Steve is not." She sounds harsher than she intends to.

He looks straight at her now. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. And you know I'd never push you to do anything if I thought you weren't ready." If he doesn't know, he should. She's pretty confident he could handle it. "Do you not want to do it?"

The fingers, that were tapping the counter, form a fist. His voice is strained. "I don't want him to come here and sit there and feel sorry for me."

"He won't. I promise." She'll make damn sure of it, too.

Bucky takes a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay as in you'll do it?"

He nods and she smiles and he can't keep from kind of smiling, too.

The next morning, in preparation for Steve's visit, Bucky lets Pearl tie up his hair again and puts on a crisp white t-shirt and blue jeans, both of which Pearl picked up the night before from American Apparel. When Bucky asks where they came from, she lies and says she found them in another closet. She's ranted about her money troubles to him enough times to know, that he would feel very uncomfortable if he knew the truth and he'd make her return them and she couldn't, because firstly, she already threw out the tags, and secondly, he looks so freaking good it would be a crime, so a little white lie is definitely in order.

After he gets dressed, Bucky paces around the living room, which he usually never does, and Pearl is nervous, too, but she's trying not to show it by keeping busy, cleaning and organizing the kitchen before going to change her own clothes. She stayed up until two in the morning, trying to figure out what to wear to this thing; it's not like it's a formal event or anything and it's not even about her. In the end, she settled on a strapless, full-skirted navy blue and white striped dress that ends just above her knees, paired with red heels and red lipstick, and it kind of looks like something someone might wear to a fourth of July celebration but it's still fabulous, if just a tad too formal. She lets down her hair and shakes it out a bit, so it's not so flat and the curls aren't all in one big pile, before returning to the living room.

Bucky stops pacing and his mouth is kind of open and his eyes are scanning every inch of her before he realizes what he's doing and just keeps his eyes fixed on hers. "You look really nice."

Pearl is just thrilled to see that Bucky is still a functioning member of the male gender, and that she isn't the only one around who sometimes has inappropriate thoughts. She smiles widely. "Thank you. You look really good, too."

There's a kind of an awkward silence and Pearl thinks Bucky looks embarrassed, and it could just be her imagination, but he keeps shifting his gaze from the floor to the walls to her and back to the floor again and rubbing his neck and it's actually really adorable to see him squirming.

"I just have one request," Pearl says and gets his attention and then flutters her eyelashes the best she possibly can while asking the question she's been dying to ask for ages. "Can I cut your hair?"

"If it means I don't have to wear this uncomfortable thing anymore." Bucky points to the hair tie that's holding back his luscious locks, but when he sees Pearl's excitement, he adds, skeptically, "You know how to cut hair?"

"I used to work at Supercuts." For about a month and a half and all she did was sweep hair from the floor, but he doesn't need to know that. She cuts her own hair and that almost always turns out fine.

Bucky seems satisfied with the answer, so Pearl grabs her bag from the couch, brings it over to the kitchen counter, and rummages through the old receipts and packs of gum to find the hair cutting scissors she's been carrying around for a while. She also digs out a comb from her bag and takes out a mug from the upper cabinet, fills it with water and sets it down on the counter. She tells Bucky to grab a chair and he brings one over and sits down while Pearl grabs the kitchen towel from the counter and wraps it around Bucky's neck, clamping it with a hair clip.

Pearl pulls out the hair tie and starts combing through Bucky's hair, which, surprisingly, feels softer than it looks. "So, what happened, 'cause when we first met, you didn't want to have anything to do with Steve?"

"Well, as you keep telling me, I can't change the past. If I could, I wouldn't be here, and I think maybe it means something that he's here, too."

Pearl dips the comb into the mug and runs it through his hair, making him flinch when a drop of cold water streams down his forehead. "It's fate."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna call it that." Pearl gently tilts back his head and keeps dampening his hair.

She picks up a section of hair from the top and liberally starts snipping away. "See, I don't even believe in fate but this, _this_ is fate. You're both here, alive, in the 21st century. Call it whatever, but it's remarkable."

"I know."

Pearl is pretty sure there's some excitement in his voice but it's well hidden. She keeps cutting and most of Bucky's hair is soon covering the floor and she doesn't even mind having to clean the kitchen again, because the finished product is going to make it all worth it, even if the process to get there turns out to be much harder than it looks, which it does. It's like once one side is even, the other is lopsided and vice versa, and Pearl is starting to wish she had some hair clippers. Bucky could probably pull off a buzz cut.

Thirty painful minutes later Pearl has to admit it's not going to get any better and if she keeps cutting, he'll have no hair left. She ruffles his hair and unclips the kitchen towel and uses it to dust off the hair on his shirt and realizes she probably should've made him wear something else during the haircut, so his shirt wouldn't be full of itchy hairs constantly poking him but it's too late for that now and she'll just have to wash the shirt. She steps in front of him and tries to sound positive. "Okay, you're done."

He runs his hand through his hair. "It's short."

"It is."

Pearl follows him into the bathroom and looking at his hair from further away, it actually looks pretty good. It looks even, just a little longer on top like she wanted, and really brings out his features, which was kind of the point.

He looks at it from every angle he possibly can. "I like it."

"Me too."

It's not perfect, but it's a definite improvement over the hobo hair. Pearl leaves him to admire his new 'do and goes to sweep up the hair from the kitchen floor and it's not long until she hears the front door opening and two sets of footsteps approaching and Bucky scatters back to the kitchen, looking like he's ready to run away at any second.

"You'll be fine. It's just Steve."

It is 'just Steve', but Steve isn't just anybody, and Pearl called Steve last night and made him swear to act normal and not pitiful or sad or anything, but the last time Bucky saw Steve didn't go too well. Pearl is positive Bucky's ready, but The Asset is a whole other story. She dumps the hair into the trash and starts loading up the coffee maker and setting out some biscotti and muffins.

Steve enters the kitchen, Natasha in tow. "Hey."

Bucky completely freezes and for a split second Pearl thinks he's going to have an episode again, but instead he reaches for her hand and she gives him a little reassuring squeeze. Pearl sees Natasha looking but she's more concerned with Bucky, who seems like he's not going to open his mouth at all because he's just staring at Steve, who's smiling that great Captain America smile of his.

"Hey, so glad you guys are here," Pearl says to break the awkward silence. She tugs on Bucky's arm. "Bucky, don't be rude. Say hi."

"Hi." His face is still blank.

"Sit down, coffee will be ready in just a minute."

Pearl notices Steve's smile fading as he pulls up a chair. She makes Bucky sit down and let go of her hand and he reluctantly does so, but keeps glancing over to her as she goes to turn on the coffee maker. Steve looks like he doesn't know where to start, so the two of them just sit in silence while Pearl tries to make subtle nods at Bucky towards Steve, except she's not that subtle with her crazy eyes and frantic head-bobbing, but Steve doesn't seem to notice or he's just very good at pretending, and Bucky keeps opening and closing his mouth like he's trying to say something but then deciding it's stupid.

Natasha leans against the counter. Until Steve speaks, the only sound is coffee dripping. "You cut your hair."

No response from Bucky. Pearl pulls out coffee cups from the cabinet and sets out milk and sugar and tiny teaspoons and small plates. "Actually, I did it. It's much better now, don't you think?"

Steve nods. "Looks good."

Pearl pours coffee for everyone and decides to follow Natasha's lead of drinking hers by the kitchen sink, letting the men have the table all to themselves. Bucky stares at the cup of coffee in front of him before finally opening his mouth. "I went to the Smithsonian to see the Captain America exhibit."

"What?" Steve asks, pouring some milk into his coffee.

"After we met, last year," Bucky says, lifting his gaze from the cup and his eyes are wide and intense.

"Yeah?" Steve looks confused and Pearl is right there with him.

"Yeah. Your face was everywhere." Bucky grins. "It was kind of annoying."

Steve laughs a little. "Believe me, I think so too."

And they start talking like they're just two best friends who haven't seen each other in a while and Pearl watches them and she can't understand it. Steve tells Bucky what he's been up to with the Avengers and SHIELD and Bucky tells Steve what he's been doing since dragging Steve out of the Potomac river, which isn't much since he's basically just been hiding and trying not to draw attention to himself. They talk about going back to Brooklyn and how much it's changed and list through the people they used to know, who are dead now, and Pearl just keeps sipping her coffee and Natasha is just observing and looks to be just as shocked at how well it's actually going.

"You want to go get a drink later?" Natasha asks, almost whispering.

Pearl's eyes are still fixated on Bucky and Steve. "Yeah, sure."

Their conversation is kept light and happy. Steve is clearly avoiding asking all the questions he wants to ask, and Pearl is thrilled he's trying to follow her instructions, but she can see his eyes darting to Bucky's metal arm from time to time and then lingering there while his jaw clenches and then unclenches as he snaps out of thought to laugh at Bucky reminiscing about that one time, when Steve feigned passing out at the Coney Island boardwalk to save Bucky from a horrible date. The whole thing seems surreal, as if nothing's changed and it's just one of those old videos, from 70 years ago, of the two of them just laughing and teasing each other.

"I'm happy to have you here, Buck. If you need anything, I'll be around," Steve says before heading out. Natasha promises to be in touch later.

After they're gone, Bucky thanks Pearl for telling Steve not to ask questions and she pretends not to know what he's talking about.

"Can you please just accept my thank you?" he asks.

Pearl grabs the coffee cups and brings them over to the sink where Bucky is standing. She can't wait for the dishwasher, that Stark promised would be here by yesterday, to arrive. "Fine. Whatever. It's not a big deal."

Pearl turns on the tap and hot water begins to pour out. She reaches for the dish sponge, but Bucky interrupts by grabbing her wrist and she turns her head to face him. He looks serious. "It is to me. I can't talk to him and you get that."

He's really close to her now and she can smell him, and he smells really good and not sweaty at all, and if she'd just take a step back, she'd be pressed against him and the way he holds her wrist makes her feel kind of powerless but it's also hot and she's pretty sure the whole celibacy thing is just making her get turned on by the most random things.

Pearl yanks her hand free and moves a couple of steps to the left to break free from the manly scent and the feeling of his breath on her skin that's making her shiver. She shakes her head.

"Honestly, Bucky, it's really not a big deal."


	6. Girl Talk

**CHAPTER SIX  
** **GIRL TALK**

* * *

 _(10:03pm) meet me at murphy's_

Pearl is barely home when Natasha's text arrives and thanks to the stress caused by Steve's visit, she's already forgotten all about how she promised to meet up for drinks but when her phone beeps, she quickly changes, throwing on a long-sleeved, very tight and very short black dress and a black leather jacket. Luckily the bar Natasha has chosen isn't far from Pearl's building and she doesn't have to walk that far, as the shoes she grabs from the closet are the ones she always digs out, wonders why she doesn't wear them because they're gorgeous and sparkly, puts them on and then proceeds to complain about them for the rest of the night. This time, she gets to the end of her street before it all comes back to her and she curses they're existence and promises to herself, yet again, to donate them to the Salvation Army or something.

Murphy's is not a bar she usually frequents, not that she frequents any bars all that often, but this one in particular is one she likes to avoid. Firstly, it's a little hole in the wall kind of Irish pub, where the bartenders have never even heard of a Cosmopolitan and secondly, the one bartender that actually knows how to mix a drink, is the one she took home with her and then never called and even gave him a fake number just in case, but Natasha doesn't know all that and she doesn't need to, so Pearl arrives at the bar and pretends to be just fine, even though the bartender in question just happens to be working tonight and her hope of not being spotted is immediately crushed as there are only three other customers in the whole establishment.

Pearl walks over to the little booth Natasha has settled in and notices she's already ordered a drink for Pearl, which is very surprising as Natasha usually doesn't start buying rounds until much later in the evening.

Natasha eyes Pearl's outfit. "You look like you should have your own street corner."

"I'll get right on that. You can help me figure out my rates." Pearl throws her jacket onto the seat, sits down and takes a big gulp of her drink, which turns out to be some variation of a mojito, just without mint leaves and lime wedges. Natasha is wearing black jeans and a white top and her black leather jacket is right next to her, folded neatly into a little pile, and she looks nice and casual and she's been out with Pearl enough times to know, that Pearl does not wear jeans to the bar, but she teases anyway.

Natasha laughs. "If you're looking for action, we can go to a different bar."

"I'm celibate, remember?" Celibate because she doesn't even have time to meet anyone these days with Bucky taking up all her time, and also celibate by choice, because men are nothing but trouble, but being celibate isn't going to stop her from wearing a skimpy dress that shows off some cleavage.

Natasha looks over Pearl's shoulder and nods to the direction of the bar. "Well, if you decide to quit, that bartender can't stop staring at you."

"Oh, God. Is he seriously staring?" Pearl wants to sink into her seat, run for the door or just die right there, right now.

"He is." Natasha looks at Pearl squirming in her seat and raises an eyebrow. "You must've been very memorable."

Next time, Pearl's not letting Natasha pick the bar. She gives Natasha a deadly stare, which just makes her laugh and Pearl kicks her under the table. "It's not funny."

"Speaking of, is there something going on with you and Bucky?" Natasha asks, staring straight into Pearl's eyes. There's that lie detector again.

"What? First of all, that would be really inappropriate." The question doesn't really shock Pearl, since she's been waiting for it ever since Natasha caught Bucky holding Pearl's hand and since Natasha seems to be under the impression that Pearl can't be just friends with a man, but she expected to at least get through one drink before the third degree. She downs the rest of her drink and straight away Natasha's waving at the bartender for another round.

"Wouldn't be your first inappropriate relationship," Natasha says with a smirk.

"Shut up. Second of all, he's still really messed up."

The bartender, whose name might be Ryan or Neil or Bob but definitely one of those, brings over the drinks and Pearl suddenly finds the dents in the wooden table really fascinating. Natasha can barely keep a straight face.

"Wouldn't be the first mess you date, either," she says after he leaves.

Pearl glares at Natasha. "You think you're so clever."

Natasha throws her hands up and smiles. "Alright. I believe you."

It's silent. Natasha sips on her drink and there's clearly a reason, that she's not sharing, as to why they're here. Pearl's phone beeps and as she reads the message, she sighs and shoves the phone back into her bag. "My mom keeps pushing me to find a man and start popping out children."

"Really?" Natasha asks, in between sips.

"Yeah. I stopped answering the phone but then she just texts me." Not only does she text, she sends Pearl pictures and updates of the guys from her high school and no matter how many times Pearl texts back 'not interested', mom keeps sending them, as if Pearl wants to hook up with the idiots she rejected ten years ago, so she doesn't even answer the texts anymore.

Natasha puts down her drink and runs her finger around the edge of the glass. "I don't know if I see you as a mom. Do you want to have kids?"

"I do, actually. Just one, though. A really well-behaved one." Trying not to mess up one kid might be easier than trying to raise several functioning members of society, at least Pearl thinks so. Her mother had four children and they're all, more or less, messed up. The first one, Pearl's brother Patrick, turned out mostly fine, though. He's a high-paid lawyer with two kids and a beautiful wife, a huge house and a golden retriever. And a tiny, insignificant drug problem.

Natasha is well into her second drink now and Pearl thinks it's the perfect time to ask why they're having this little night out. "So, what's up?"

Natasha shrugs. "What do you mean?"

Pearl lifts up her glass and shakes it. "We're drinking together. That means something's up."

"No it doesn't." Natasha shakes her head a little and avoids making eye contact. She fiddles with the straw in her drink. Pearl folds her arms and stares until Natasha budges. "Okay. Fine. I wasn't in D.C with Steve."

"You weren't?" Pearl asks.

Natasha puts her elbow on the table and leans on her hand. She sighs. "Banner's quinjet sent out a weak tracking signal so I went to Iceland to check it out."

Pearl studies Natasha's thoughtful expression as she keeps fiddling with the straw, poking the ice in her glass. "What happened?"

Natasha lifts her gaze. "I'm here with you, what do you think? He wasn't there."

Pearl would never tell her, because Natasha would never talk to her again if she did, but she feels sorry for her red-headed friend. Her own problems always seem so small in comparison, and she probably doesn't even know half of what really goes on in Natasha's life or what happened with Bruce or any of it, really. And Natasha usually doesn't want to talk. She'll always have a reason for drinking and she'll share that, but just that, no details, no ranting, nothing. It works out fine, though, since Pearl loves nothing more than talking about herself and Natasha clearly just wants something else to think about while pouring copious amounts of liquor down her throat.

Natasha looks kind of sad so Pearl changes the subject. "You know, he's not a bad looking guy."

Natasha drinks from the straw before sitting up straight again. "Who? Bucky?"

"Yeah, you know? I mean, I'm not blind," Pearl says with a wink and a smile, making Natasha laugh a little and roll her eyes.

"I guess."

After two unusually strong drinks, combined with not really eating anything today, Pearl is drunk enough to admit it out loud, Bucky is attractive. If they'd met under different circumstances, she would probably have her heart broken by now, but she has no intention of doing anything about this attraction. It would be wrong, like almost as wrong as sleeping with a married man, and sort of even more than that, since she didn't know he was married and she is definitely fully aware of Bucky's issues. Even while drunk, Pearl knows it would be very wrong, but there's no harm in looking. Or having sexy dreams, like earlier in the day, when she fell asleep on the couch while they watched World War II documentaries and Bucky woke her up, thinking she was having a nightmare.

It's three in the morning when Pearl drags herself back to the tiny apartment she calls home and throws herself onto her bed, not even bothering to wash her face or change clothes or anything other than ripping off her jacket. It's two past three in the morning when her ring tone starts blaring and she considers not picking up, but it keeps ringing and ringing and people usually don't call at his hour unless it's really important, so she grabs her bag from the floor and finds her phone, which is surprisingly hard to do even though it's the only big and brightly lit vibrating thing in a sea of smaller, immobile and definitely much darker objects.

"Hello?" she mumbles into the phone.

Sam's voice snaps her right awake. "It happened again."

She's pretty sure she knows exactly what he's talking about, so she tells Sam she's on her way, grabs her bag and rushes out to find a cab, which turns out to be surprisingly easy at three in the morning on a Wednesday. The cab driver gives her a pitiful look and yes, she probably looks like a girl whose one night stand didn't let her spend the night, but she's not, and even if she was, who the hell is he to judge? She gives him the address and tries to ignore the fact that he keeps leering at her through the rear-view mirror. When they pull up to the facility, she revels in his shocked expression as he gawks at the giant Avengers "A" on the side of the building.

She runs in and doesn't stop until she almost runs straight into Sam. Sam gestures towards Bucky's room. "He broke down the door. I had to taze him."

Pearl looks at the door, that is now on the floor, and it's pretty much broken in half in the middle, right where the metal beam used to be and what used to be the little window is now just little shards of glass all over the floor and the hinges have been ripped from the wall. "That worked?"

"Snapped him out of it, at least." Sam stands there with his arms folded and it's clear he's not exactly happy to be up at this hour.

"Where is he now?" Pearl asks.

"In your office. I've called a guy to come fix the door tomorrow and I also called-"

The front door opens and Pearl hears Steve's voice bellowing through the hall. "Sam!"

"Steve? You called Steve?" Pearl whispers.

"We need a whole new door. I think he'd notice that." He sounds much less annoyed now and he seems to be amused by the look of horror that's on Pearl's face.

Pearl glances at the door again, then back at Sam and shrugs. "Maybe not."

Steve reaches them, looks at the door, looks at Pearl in her skimpy dress and finally lands on Sam. He doesn't look too happy to be here, either. "What the hell happened?"

"Steve, calm down. Everything's fine." Pearl tries very hard not to slur her words.

"Fine? This is fine?" He aggressively points to the door and he's yelling. He's so not happy.

Pearl looks at the door again. It's still broken. She shakes her head. "No, but-"

"What happened? Earlier, he was so... So normal." He's not yelling anymore, so that's good but he folds his arms and stares at Pearl, looking for answers she doesn't know.

"Well, he's still got some issues. I'm gonna go talk to him, it'll be fine."

He does not look convinced and Pearl doesn't know if it's the vacant stare she's probably giving him or her hand that's somehow patting his arm now. "No, I'm not letting you in there."

"I know what I'm doing." She throws her hands up and knocks her right hand on the wall that's much closer than it seemed to be a minute ago.

"Buddy, you should trust her," Sam says. Pearl smiles. Sam is a really nice guy. She wonders if he'll let her meet the girl he's been texting.

"Has this happened before?" Steve asks. Sam and Pearl share a very telling look. "And you didn't tell me?"

She pats his arm again. "See, I knew you would react like this. But just seriously, let me do this."

"You're drunk." Firstly, not a great argument, and secondly, did he just figure that out?

"I'm not asking you to let me drive a car. I'm gonna go talk to him."

Steve lets her go, and Pearl hears him telling Sam that she's impossible to work with, and it makes Pearl smile because obviously he doesn't mean it. If he didn't want her to talk to Bucky, he could easily stop her. She opens the door and steps into her office, which is really just a small room with a desk, a computer, a chair and a small sofa and all the boxes full of SHIELD and SSR files piled against the wall, waiting to be processed. Bucky sits on the sofa, staring blankly ahead.

Pearl goes over and sits next to him. She takes his hand. "Bucky? What happened?"

He turns to face her and he's got that haunted look on his face, the look that Pearl hasn't seen in a while. "I think I forgot where I was."

Pearl doesn't know what to say so she just squeezes his hand and places her other hand on it, too.

"I remembered something. They used to keep me frozen, in between missions, right?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah."

"But one time, they didn't. They just locked me up for the night." His eyes unfocus and his brow furrows. "And I tried to escape and I almost made it out."

"What happened?"

He focuses on her face again. There's definite fear in his eyes. "It was a test. They let me escape."

"They wanted to see if you'd do it?" Pearl asks. Bucky responds with a nod. Pearl takes a deep breath. "That is seriously fucked up."

It's awful to imagine how they probably punished him for the escape attempt and how they must've fucked with his mind even more for him to never try it again. She's read about these people, and seen them on tv, who have survived being held captive and how they never tried to escape and it's so easy to sit on your couch at home and wonder why not, but it's not easy to actually see someone who's been through something like that. Pearl wants to hug him, but he doesn't like being pitied and she knows that in her drunk and tired state of mind, she'd probably burst into tears and that wouldn't be good, so she doesn't.

"You ready to talk about HYDRA now?" Pearl asks, pushing back all of her feelings.

Bucky takes a really, really deep breath and then looks straight into Pearl's eyes. "I have to be, right?"

"That is what I think, yes, absolutely." Pearl nods profusely.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"Not anymore. Not really. Kind of."

"Do you think maybe this should be a discussion for another time when you're not drunk and it's not three in the morning?" The corner of his lip curves upwards.

He has a point, she has to admit. "Maybe."

She's tired, she's still somewhat drunk, she might not remember the conversation later if they were to have it now, but mostly, she's just really hungry. She thinks there might be Sam's leftover Chinese food in the fridge or at least some Twinkies in the cabinet. She remembers Wanda bringing them in her quest to taste all the traditional American delicacies, not liking them and Steve being on some kind of a health kick, Natasha not eating processed foods that week and Bucky just generally hating Twinkies. Unless Sam's gotten to them first, the Twinkies should still be there.

"I'm starving. Come on, let's get something to eat." She gets up, still holding his hand with one of hers. She tugs on it until he gets up.

Pearl walks to the door, but Bucky doesn't follow her, so she turns back to see why. He's looking at the dress and the shoes and the legs and even quickly glances towards the cleavage when she turns around, but it's not the kind of disgusting and drooling look she gets from men in bars like Murphy's, it's more of a coy, sheepish kind of look. He looks her in the eyes again, looking kind of shocked. "That's quite an outfit you're wearing."

"What does that mean?" She folds her arms. Back in the day, probably even prostitutes used to wear more clothes than she is right now, but she never pictured Bucky to be a prude.

"Nothing. I've just never seen you like that." Even though the dress she wore earlier technically showed more skin, it was still classy and this one is definitely not, and clearly the earlier one was more to Bucky's liking. At least it didn't get vague comments like 'quite an outfit.'

Pearl rolls her eyes. "Well I don't wear things like this to work. I was at a bar."

"Is that something women wear to bars these days?" Bucky asks. Could he just drop the shocked tone? What is the big deal with this goddamn outfit? Thank God she's not trying to date him, since clearly there's a dress code.

"Yeah, I guess. Do you not like it? Is it too vulgar?" Pearl asks, annoyed.

He looks taken aback. "No, I, uh, I do like it. Really."

"Oh."

Pearl is pretty sure he's blushing all through their late night snacking session and she's pretty sure she catches him staring while she reaches for the Twinkies on the top shelf, but it could just be her drunk mind trying to come up with more material for sexy dreams. While Bucky locks himself into the temporary room Sam has set up, Pearl wonders if she'll remember any of this tomorrow. She sends a text to Natasha before crawling into her office and passing out on the sofa.

 _(4:05am) at facility. sleeping here. please bring clothes. only have slutty dress._


	7. Not Just A Job

**CHAPTER SEVEN  
** **NOT JUST A JOB**

* * *

There's an annoying ray of light that keeps finding Pearl's face through the window no matter what way she twists her head, and there's a really high-pitched bird making obnoxious bird noises right outside, probably looking to hook up with a lady bird, and Pearl has to admit, it's time to get up. The clock on the wall suggests that it's 7.30 in the morning, which means she's slept for approximately three and a half hours, which isn't a lot, on the most uncomfortable piece of furniture she's ever slept on, making it feel more like an hour of sleep, if that.

She finds her bag on the floor, digs through to find her phone only to see that Natasha has not replied anything to her text, and that she has apparently joined some kind of high school reunion website and her email is filling up with friend requests, but since she has no recollection of doing it, it's possible her mother has been interfering again. Pearl decides to deal with it later, either by calling her mom or just by deleting the whole thing and waiting until Mary, aka mom, notices, but right now she's just too exhausted to even think about it and just takes comfort in the fact that the profile picture her mom has chosen is recent, not to mention absolutely gorgeous, at least in her own mind because it's the one from last year where she's on the beach in Cabo, wearing a bikini and drinking a margarita, and not taken from a yearbook.

At some point during her sleep, Pearl has apparently taken off her shoes and thrown them in the corner and putting them back on does not seem like something she wants to do right now. She's pretty sure there's some clothing in her gym locker, so she makes her way down to the basement level. The cold tile floor feels surprisingly nice against her bare feet and she's just realizing the amount of damage the beautiful shoes have once again done to her tiny feet. Bucky's door is still closed, she notes as she passes it. After such a rough night, it's good that he's getting some sleep. He probably has curtains in his room.

Pearl finds a pair of black yoga pants in her locker along with some socks and grabs Bucky's gray sweater from his locker, since he probably won't mind her borrowing it, and since she's not going to prance around all day in just a sports bra just because she was stupid enough to take almost all her workout clothes home to be washed just yesterday. She grabs a hairbrush from her locker after changing her clothes and goes to the bathroom to assess the situation in the mirror. She washes her face to get rid of the eyeliner (Chanel, way too expensive) and mascara (so old the label's rubbed off), that have smudged all the way up to her ears, and brushes out the giant frizzy mess, that is her hair, until it looks semi-presentable.

Sam and Steve are having breakfast in the kitchen, looking annoyingly perky and well-rested, when she enters in her stylish ensemble. Steve gives her a funny look and points to the coffee maker. "There's still some left."

Pearl grabs a huge mug from the upper cabinet and pours in the coffee, then milk and lots and lots of sugar to make it actually drinkable. "I apologize for my horrible outfit. I asked Natasha to bring me something to wear, but she hasn't responded to my text, so I'm just assuming she's still sleeping off her hangover."

Pearl sits down next to Sam. He holds back a smile as he looks at her. "You guys had a fun night, it seems."

"That kind of depends on your definition of fun." She sips on her coffee, hoping it will do whatever it is it usually does for people. Wake them up or whatever.

As Sam bites into a piece of toast, Steve grabs the plate full of cinnamon buns and offers it to Pearl. "So, how did you end up here with us? Natasha told me you used to work for the CIA."

She grabs a bun from the top and bites into it. "Yeah, I was fired."

"Why?" Steve asks. Sam puts down his toast, like he's been waiting a long time to hear this story and doesn't need any distractions, and takes a sip of his coffee.

"I had a relationship with my boss. It was going pretty well, until his wife walked in on us having sex in his office."

Pearl has nothing to hide. They're going to find out eventually, anyway, so why not now? Pearl's sister, Penelope, still hasn't spoken to her after she heard about the affair, mostly because she's super religious and wants to send Pearl to some kind of retreat, where she could find God and become a better person that doesn't fuck other people's husbands and make a mockery of the whole sacred institution of marriage. Her words, not Pearl's. So, whatever Steve and Sam are going to say, it can't be worse than that.

Sam nearly chokes on his coffee. Steve clears his throat and it's like he's hesitating whether or not to ask, like he's afraid of the answer. "Did you know he was married?"

"What kind of a girl do you think I am?" Pearl smiles. It's a valid question, obviously. Steve doesn't really know her.

"I honestly have no idea at this point." Steve's brows furrow and he shrugs. He's very honest, if nothing else, and Pearl really likes that about him, because she's the same way, except Steve is much more tactful and thinks about what he's going to say and she just goes around blurting every little thing that comes to mind.

Pearl laughs and shakes her head. "I went to Catholic school for Christ's sake."

"Seriously?" Sam asks, all wide-eyed, as if that's so hard to believe.

Pearl nods. "Yeah. Anyway, he didn't want a divorce, so they agreed to stay together if he got rid of me, so I was fired."

Telling the story is weirdly satisfying. Even if they end up judging her for it, at least it's out there. She takes another bite of the cinnamon bun and makes a mental note of asking Steve where he got them, since they're much better than the ones from her usual bakery.

Steve's eyes narrow. "That doesn't sound legal."

Pearl smiles widely, because he's absolutely right but he sounds kind of cautious, like he doesn't want to say it in case she hasn't realized it on her own. Basically, he doesn't want to suggest she's stupid. She dunks the cinnamon bun into her coffee. "They dug up every little mistake I've ever done and drew up productivity charts to back it up and covered their tracks pretty well. But I'm suing them anyway."

"What?" They say it almost in unison.

"I have four months worth of dirty text messages, emails and pictures of us to prove the relationship, and they also prove the real reason I was fired," Pearl says, completely casually, and they look at her like she's crazy to be talking about this like it's just something mundane like sharing a recipe or something.

Sam leans in a little closer and looks at her like he's trying to see if she's gone insane or if her head's just full of sawdust or something. "You're suing... The CIA."

She stares back and nods really slowly. "Yeah, but I know they're going to settle. If we went to court, they'd most likely win, but they're not going to want this in the papers."

Steve looks thoughtful as he rubs his chiseled, unshaven chin. "Why would they win? Sounds like you have a pretty good case."

"Jurors don't really like dirty mistresses and it wouldn't even be hard for their lawyers to paint me as an immoral character, the kind nobody wants protecting their country." Pearl tucks her hair behind her ears. Sam and Steve look like they have even more questions now that she's explained the whole thing.

"You seem to know a lot," Steve says.

"Yeah, I kind of have a law degree," Pearl says, stretching out the words like it's a bad thing or something.

A law degree from NYU, to be precise. During her time there, some of her fellow students called her Elle Woods, like the character in the amazing, completely inaccurate and totally classic movie Legally Blonde. Pearl embraced it, dressed up as her for Halloween and let the idiots have their fun with it while she pretended to laugh with them and not at them. It's still one of her favorite movies, even if they tried very hard to ruin it for her.

"What?"

This whole morning is just full of surprises for her two breakfast buddies, and Pearl doesn't even know why she's sharing so much. She suspects there might still be alcohol in her blood. She's not usually this open. "I'm licensed to practice law in the glorious state of New York."

"You went from law school to the CIA?" Steve asks and Pearl can almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

"And you're what, twenty-five?" Sam continues the train of thought.

"Twenty-seven, actually." Pearl is slightly uncomfortable by the blank stares Steve and Sam are giving her. Sure, most people don't graduate from law school at her age, but it's not _that_ uncommon and she was only with the CIA for like two years after that. "I swear I'm not a child prodigy or anything. I'm actually, like, normal."

She's just someone who skipped second grade, thought she knew what she wanted in life, went straight to law school from college and graduated right on schedule. She took, and passed, the Bar Exam while her application for the CIA trainee program was already being processed, because it would've been stupid not to, just in case the CIA didn't want her, and also because her brother paid for her tuition and would've been furious if she didn't. Patrick was already pretty mad when Pearl didn't take the job he had lined up for her in his firm and they didn't speak for a whole year. Pearl can only imagine what would've happened if she hadn't taken the Bar, or worse, if she'd dropped out after two years like she originally wanted to. It was actually Natasha who convinced her not to, even though, at that point, they'd only known each other for about a week.

"Hey, Buck, what's up?" Steve suddenly says, snapping Pearl out of her thoughts. She turns around to see Bucky standing by the door.

"I broke my door. I'm sorry," he says, frowning a little. He looks sort of uncomfortable, probably because he's not used to waking up and seeing Steve having breakfast in the kitchen, and his arms are folded against his chest.

"No, it's, uh, it's fine. Don't worry about it." Steve sort of smiles, but it's really only half a smile, and gets up from the table, motioning for Bucky to sit down. "I have to get going, actually, but I'll see you later, Buck."

Steve tugs on Sam's sleeve and with a quick goodbye, they both leave, though Sam grabs his coffee and a plate full of food to go with him since he's not actually going anywhere, just into another room.

Bucky sits down, looking rather uncomfortable by how quickly Steve hurried off. "Is he avoiding me?"

"I think he's just giving you space." Pearl gets up to grab a plate for Bucky, places it in front of him and piles two pieces of toast and a cinnamon bun onto it, then starts making a fresh batch of coffee.

Bucky watches her with a furrowed brow. "You're wearing my sweater."

He doesn't really sound mad, but she gives him the wide-eyed, slowly batting her lashes, shy smile kind of a look just in case. "I'm sorry. I didn't have anything else. I promise I'll wash it."

He raises both eyebrows and clears his throat. "It's fine. I actually have something for you."

He rushes out of the kitchen, leaving Pearl to wonder if she's supposed to follow him or wait here, but she decides to just stay put. He quickly returns, takes her left hand and turns it so her palm is facing up before placing a very small object onto it. Pearl lifts it up closer to her face to inspect it, and it turns out to be a small, maybe an inch high, origami crane, seemingly made out of newspaper. It's so intricate, Pearl can't help but look at in in complete awe. She looks up, and Bucky is just staring at her, looking... Nervous? Probably not. Expecting, maybe.

"It's a thank you, for coming down here last night. It's not much, I know. I can't exactly go out shopping."

It's probably the most heartfelt gift Pearl's ever gotten, and that's something you can't buy. She looks at it again, trying really hard not to cry because that might make her seem insane, then looks back at him. He's still staring, but now he's biting his lower lip. She smiles so wide the faint creases in the corners of her eyes become visible. "I love it."

After breakfast, they go to the gym, where Pearl lies in the middle of the floor with her eyes closed, trying to stop the headache she feels coming on from happening, while Bucky runs laps around the room, like he often does, but this time he stops after three and a half.

She can feel his steps vibrating on the wooden floor as he walks over to her. "I'm actually really tired."

Pearl opens her eyes and pats the spot next to her. "It's ok. Come here, lie down."

Bucky lies down, and Pearl closes her eyes again. She definitely wouldn't mind if they spent the rest of the day here, just doing nothing, though she knows that's not exactly what she's being paid to do. She can hear Bucky breathing and it sounds kind of soothing, like listening to the ocean or something, and Pearl wonders if it's somehow similar to when babies calm down when they feel their mother's heartbeat or whatever, or is it just because she's really freaking tired, and she feels herself drifting off to sleep until she's snapped right back awake by the sound of Bucky's voice.

"I had a dream about HYDRA."

Pearl opens her eyes, takes a deep breath and turns her head towards him a little bit. "Yeah?"

He stares at the ceiling. "I tried to shoot myself in the head."

Pearl stops breathing for a split second. That is so not what she was expecting. He blinks. "Then what?"

"I hesitated. They shocked me, and I dropped the gun." He's still staring at the ceiling, biting his lip. "Why did I hesitate?"

"You didn't want to die. It's understandable." Pearl sees his fingers forming a fist, so she grabs his hand before they do and rolls it up inside her own.

He turns to face her and stares into her eyes with a look she can't quite describe. It's like a mixture of pain and confusion with a hint of anger sprinkled in. "I was selfish. I knew how to end it, but I didn't."

"You don't even know if it really happened," Pearl says. She's having that strong urge to hug him again and fighting it is becoming really, really difficult and she just wants to scream out 'fuck professionalism' and hug him like he's a giant teddy bear.

"I think it did. Why else would I dream about it?" His eyes dart from left to right, up and down, like he's replaying the dream in his head, until they land back on Pearl. "Why couldn't I do it?"

Pearl sighs. He's starting to sound like Steve with all his questions, but luckily, she's pretty sure she's got this one figured out. "The thing I need you to understand is, if you didn't kill all those people, someone else would've." He opens his mouth and she shoots him a look, the kind with a raised eyebrow and a sharp stare, making him close it right back up. "And I know what you're going to say, and I know, it doesn't make it okay and I know you wish you could've pulled the trigger, but Bucky, you dying wouldn't have changed anything except the fact that you wouldn't be here with me right now."

If HYDRA didn't have Bucky, they would've had someone else do their dirty work. Cut off the head and more tentacles will grow or whatever.

Pearl lets go of his hand to pick off a fallen eyelash from his cheek. His eyes follow her hand intently. She smiles, holding up the lash for him to make a wish with, but he doesn't get it, so she just flicks it off. "I also think it's just a dream, not a memory."

"Why?"

Pearl props up her arm and rests her head on her hand. "Because, in real life, you would've pulled the trigger."

His lips pout, as he ponders for a moment. "So, why did I have the dream?"

"Because you feel guilty about everything. Your subconscious is trying to make you feel even worse because you think that's what you deserve." Honestly, she has no idea if that's what's happening, since her knowledge of the human psyche is very limited, but she's pretty sure his dream is just a dream, and she doesn't want him thinking otherwise. She could be wrong, and it's possible it really did happen, but he's already dealing with so much, that knowing he had the chance to end it, knowing he could've avoided all of this that came after, but didn't, would be too much. She's like ninety-nine percent sure it's just a dream, anyway.

"When did you become a psychologist?" Bucky jokes.

"I had a dream that I was one, so now I am," Pearl says with a grin.

"Funny." Bucky sounds completely deadpan, but he's clearly holding back a smile.

He stares at the ceiling again, completely silent but occasionally blinking, while she rolls over onto her stomach and rests her head on her hands and watches his chest rising as he breathes.

She places one hand on his shoulder. "For whatever it's worth, I'm glad you didn't get a chance to kill yourself."

The sentence sounded much better in her head. Out loud, it sounds corny.

He turns to face her again. "You are?"

Pearl rolls her eyes and takes her hand off to lightly punch him in the arm with it. "Of course, stupid. You're like my friend now."

"Not just a job?" Bucky asks. Pearl wants to punch him again, harder. As if he's really been walking around, thinking this is just a job to her. He'd have to be a total moron to think that.

"You know, they don't actually pay me enough to hang out here all day, every day. I don't get overtime or anything," Pearl says jokingly, though it's true. They really only pay her to be present from nine to five, Monday through Friday, but her plan of action just wouldn't have worked with such a limited time frame. And it's not like she has anything to go home to. Hanging out with Bucky, though sometimes highly depressing and occasionally unbelievably frustrating, is infinitely more enjoyable than sitting at home watching Netflix. And she's made it through a whole two hours now without having inappropriate thoughts about him, so there's something to be proud of. She doesn't want to mess up the beginning of what could be a great friendship.

And then he lifts his arms behind his head and his t-shirt sort of exposes his stomach, and it's all scarred and toned and yummy, and his arm, the one that's not metal, tenses up and it's all muscle-y. That's not a word. Muscular. Okay, two hours, that's pretty good. Pearl closes her eyes and hopes this time she can make it to three.


	8. Bergstein, Weinstein and Cheng

**CHAPTER EIGHT  
BERGSTEIN, WEINSTEIN AND CHENG**

* * *

It's been three days without freakouts, bad dreams or any of the sort, and Bucky seems to be doing much better. Steve's been visiting and they still haven't had a deep, meaningful conversation about their feelings or anything, but Pearl is sure it's going to happen and when it does, there will probably be beer and manly tears. Hearing Bucky's stories about the shock therapy and the mental torture and the killings they made him do and how they trained him to do it, has been rather difficult on Pearl. She's the kind of person that reads about serial killers, kidnappers and all that, because it's somehow fascinating, and doesn't even flinch, and the stories Bucky tells are brutal and gory no matter what, but it's the fact that they're Bucky's stories that makes them that much harder to hear.

She never expected to like him this much.

He needs someone to talk to, so she'll never tell him what it feels like to hear those things and how she wants to take all the people responsible and make them go through the same thing or to just put bullets through their heads, either way, and how it makes her irrationally angry that those people are pretty much all dead already. It would seem stupid anyway, to tell him, since he's the one with the real trauma, so she'll just keep listening. It seems to be helping him just to get it all out. Steve says it's like Bucky's becoming more Bucky as the days go by, and Pearl agrees, even though she doesn't even know the old Bucky, but it's like he's gone back to that normalcy bubble, except it's not a bubble anymore, it's just life.

As part of Bucky's rehabilitation, and because Bucky has been dying to get out of the facility, Pearl and Bucky have been exploring the outside world. So far they've been to Costco, where Bucky wondered who could ever need all that stuff, shopped for some new clothes with Steve's credit card and made a quick trip to Times Square to see the madness that is electronic advertising at its finest. Today, they're at a Starbucks. Sam is trying to find a free parking space, because apparently paying for parking just goes against everything he believes in and it's become very clear during the last few days. Pearl has offered to pay, but that just seems to make him more irritated, so it's easier to just leave the car and let him drive around.

Pearl's standing at the counter, waiting for their drinks. The place is crawling with young women with laptops in front of them, probably students from the college campus nearby, and Pearl sees some of them just basically openly lusting after Bucky, who just seems sort of uncomfortable with the forwardness of modern women as he tries to avoid eye contact. She has to hold back laughter when one of them actually waves at him. He does look good in his new leather jacket and black jeans, she should know, she picked them out, and he is virtually the only man in the whole establishment, aside from the barista, who really doesn't look to be a day past sixteen. And to be fair, Bucky really is like a walking GQ cover all the damn time so it's not like she can blame these girls. She would just like to tell them, that desperation is hardly attractive, but maybe it's best to let them have some life lessons to look forward to.

The baby-faced barista places their drinks on the counter. A regular coffee for Bucky, because he's boring, a caramel frappuccino for Pearl, because she still doesn't care for actual coffee and a green tea latte for Sam, because he told her to order whatever and she hasn't tried it and really wants to, because it sounds awesome, but committing to a whole cup of it is too much. As she takes them over to the table where Bucky's sitting, she can see the girls tracking her with narrowed eyes while still smiling and twirling their hair. Pearl sits down, right next to him, and sees their smiles falter a little as she places the cardboard cup of coffee in front of him and pats him on the arm.

"There you go."

"Thank you."

He grabs the cup only to put it down immediately as it's still burning hot. Pearl laughs and sips on her iced drink, then pretends to pick off some lint from his brand-new sweater and makes sure she's seen doing it. The girls are no longer smiling, some of them have gone back to their laptops but a few are watching closely. Pearl's college boyfriend always said he hated going anywhere with her, because of the attention she would get from other guys, and she thought she knew what he meant, but she really doesn't. This feels sort of awesome, like she has something everybody else wants, even if she doesn't actually _have_ him.

"So, Steve called and said he might drop by later, and I was like okay, that's cool," Pearl says. "And then he asked if I planned on ever returning his credit card, but I told him we might still need it."

"What for?" Bucky asks.

Pearl shrugs, sipping on her drink through a straw. "Well... Starbucks, for starters."

"What are you doing?" Bucky asks, looking at his hand, clearly amused, and Pearl realizes she has her hand on his and she's been drawing circles with her finger while talking.

She quickly removes her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. I got caught up in the moment."

He raises an eyebrow. Pearl leans in closer to explain, slightly flustered, and hopes he won't think she's crazy. "All these girls here are jealous, 'cause they think were a couple. I just wanted to play it up a little."

He's still got that amused look on his face as he studies her expression. He looks around. She's sort of embarrassed now, until he reaches over to sweep a strand of hair behind her ear. Taken aback, she feels a shiver running through her spine.

"I'm just giving them something to look at." He smiles and she can't help but grin.

Pearl is having way too much fun with this. Back in high school, Pearl's first boyfriend, Andy, the one she can never forget because of the surgical scar on her ankle, told everyone that they had sex, as a way to get back at her after their break-up. Like literally, everyone. Even Pearl's parents heard about it. In Catholic school, that was a really huge deal, and nobody cared that it wasn't even true. The other students called her the whore of Babylon, and this kind of reminds her of that, except back then girls stared at her with contempt and pity and this feels much better and it's really not similar at all. Pearl doesn't really know why she's enjoying this so much, but with Bucky's lovely blue eyes staring at her as if she's Rose and he's Jack, it's like the middle part of the movie, where you still think they might have a happy ending, even though you know the ship's going down. She doesn't even know if anyone's looking anymore, but they're still gazing into each others eyes.

Bucky smiles a mischievous smile, making Pearl remember what's happening isn't real. He's definitely convincing, and it kind of makes sense, since Steve always says he was quite popular with the ladies back in the day. If he can make her forget it's all make-believe, he can probably charm the skirt off any woman. She breaks free from the eye contact to see Sam standing three feet away, staring at them with questions written all over his face.

Pearl doesn't think he'd understand her explanation, because she's not even sure if she knows what just happened, so before Sam has a chance to ask anything, she jumps up to escape the situation. "What are you doing? Come, sit down! Your drink is right there and I'm gonna go get us some muffins."

Back at the facility, Pearl dives straight back into work. Now that Bucky's more of a functioning human being, she thinks it's probably time for her to actually start doing something for her paychecks, so she's started tackling the old files from SSR and SHIELD. She lets Bucky help, because he really wants to and it gives him something to do besides reading history books and obsessing.

They're in her office, trying to get the files into some kind of an order, since they're completely jumbled up inside the boxes, or at least Bucky is trying. He's on the floor, surrounded by folders and empty boxes and pages that don't belong anywhere yet, but he swears he has a system, so Pearl lets him sort through them. Meanwhile she weeds through and responds to the _hundreds_ of emails that Stark has started forwarding to her, regarding highly important matters like people wanting to hire Avengers for their kids birthdays, women wanting to book Thor for their bachelorette parties, Ellen DeGeneres wanting someone, anyone really, to appear on her show, offered photo opportunities with politicians, charities asking for appearances, something about Steve becoming the spokesperson for Coca-Cola and a bunch of reporters asking for an exclusive story or profile on anyone. Pearl is not a publicist and this is definitely not her area of expertise, but it's surprisingly easy to handle when all she really has to do is say no to everything, but try to make it sound nice. She doesn't even tell Steve about half of it, knowing he'd be offended at how much money he could make just by selling out all his ideals and morals.

The origami Bucky made her sits on her desk. She picks it up to admire it, like she's done many times before. It's funny how many emotions a piece of paper can evoke. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Bucky looks up from the floor to see what she's referring to. "The Army."

Way to be specific, Bucky. Pearl rolls her eyes. "Is origami folding part of basic training or something?"

"Another soldier taught me. That's the only one I mastered, though," he says with a shrug, then reverts his focus back to the papers.

Pearl twirls the tiny crane around in her fingers. "You know, nobody has ever made me anything before."

He looks up again, this time with a furrowed brow. "Never?"

Pearl shakes her head. "I have a really extensive collection of pearl earrings and necklaces, though."

"People buy you pearls as a gift?" Bucky asks.

"Yeah. And they all think they're being original."

Pearl laughs, because it's true. She has pearl jewelery from before she even knew what her own name was, let alone knew what it meant. She's got single pearls from different parts of the world, earrings, bracelets, necklaces and rings. All sorts of things. She's given most of them to her sister Penelope, though, since she's the kind of conservative person that actually wears pearls.

"But this, this is really special." She smiles warmly. It is the first handmade gift she's ever gotten, that alone makes it special.

"It's nothing, really," Bucky mumbles.

"Why did you make it?" Pearl asks, knowing the answer already. She just wants to remind him.

"To thank you."

"Then it's not nothing."

It's not just a piece of paper folded up to look like a bird, even though technically it is, it's more than that. It's what it represents, that makes Pearl all warm and fuzzy inside. He wanted to thank her. He's doing so well, and clearly, she's doing something right and clearly, he thinks so, too. She might've gone home that day, when he gave it to her, and cried, but only a little, and she'll never admit it, if anyone asks.

"How's the lawsuit going?" he asks, while flipping through another folder.

"I actually have a meeting about that later today. They didn't give me much notice, probably so I wouldn't show up, and they'd get the whole thing thrown out, but I-" Pearl begins blabbing absentmindedly, while scrolling through all the emails, but then she remembers something. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

Bucky's eyes widen and his mouth drops open, like he's been caught, because that's exactly what's happening. He drops the folder.

"You were eavesdropping!" Pearl shouts out.

Bucky shrugs, like it's not a big deal. His eyes drill into hers. "Why didn't you tell me the real reason you were fired?"

"I didn't want to bother you with my problems. It's none of your business, anyway," Pearl snaps. She told him the official reason, the one that's on all the paperwork, and that should be enough. She starts typing away furiously and he goes back to work, too.

They don't really talk for the rest of the day, only exchanging quick opinions on the paperwork and the subject of chronological vs alphabetical order. She's kind of mad at him. Not so much for eavesdropping, because everybody does that, but because he waited three days to tell her he knew and then tried to just sneak it into the conversation, like she wouldn't remember not telling him about it. And did he really need three days to process the information? She didn't want to distract him from his own stuff, that should've been easy enough to figure out. Maybe it took him three days to forget that he shouldn't know this information. Intentional or not, she's still mad.

At five o'clock, Pearl begins gathering her stuff. "Are you gonna be okay if I head out now?"

"I'm a grown man. And Sam is here to shoot me if necessary. Good luck with your meeting." He gets up from the floor, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Thank you. I'll come back after and we'll do our meditation."

Pearl heads downtown after changing into her best court-appropriate clothing. A black, high-waist pencil skirt and a white button-up shirt with the three top buttons left open, paired with black heels and a bright yellow fitted blazer. She's even got her old, black satchel bag from her law school days, just to tie the look together. She parks her Vespa, walks into the courthouse and asks the girl at the reception desk, where to find room 221, where they've set up the meeting. The girl points Pearl to the direction of the staircase and tells her to make a right at the end. She walks up, fluffing up her hair and wiping off her clothes to look presentable, turns right, and there he is, sitting on a bench right outside the room 221 door. Her former boss, former lover, formerly the head of her department, currently the head of operations. The man she once thought cared for her. Maybe he did. Maybe he was just a really good liar.

Donovan du Pont. Even his name reveals his high standing in society, and Pearl knows he didn't get to his position just by working hard. Gotta love nepotism. Pearl walks up to him, arms tightly folded against her chest. He's still tan, tall, well-built and well-groomed. His sandy hair is exactly an inch and a half long, as always.

"I heard you got a promotion. Congratulations."

Donovan gets up, looking at her from head to toe with his brown eyes. He grins, making her shudder. "I heard you're a secretary now."

"Actually, I'm working with the Avengers on trying to rehabilitate the world's most notorious assassin back into society," Pearl deadpans, wiping the grin from his face. And then he bursts into laughter.

"You always did have a sense of humor."

He opens the door for her and they walk in. Around a big, oval table, sit three men in five-thousand dollar suits and one older lady with a laptop, probably a transcriber. The men stand up and the tallest and youngest one, a black-haired and dark-skinned man extends his hand for Pearl to shake.

"Hello, miss Palmer. My name is Aaron Bergstein, these are my associates Weinstein and Cheng. Where is your legal representation?"

Pearl shakes his hand, then Weinstein's and lastly, Cheng's. "I am it."

Weinstein, an old and short grey-haired man, and Cheng, burly man of Asian descent, give each other a funny look as they sit back down. Bergstein raises an eyebrow, as Pearl sits down on the opposite side of the table, and motions for Donovan to join them.

They all sit there with their hands on the table. Pearl surveys the four serious looking men. They don't scare her. She crosses her legs, placing her hands on her knees. "So, do you guys want to set up a court date right now? I'm just dying to get my face on the cover of every newspaper."

Donovan laughs a belittling laugh. Bergstein sighs and leans forward a little, clasping his hands together, with a face that says he's trying to be on her side. His voice sounds concerned. "You don't have a case, miss Palmer. We're willing to offer you a generous severance package. You should take it. If you take this further, the legal fees will be astronomical, and you'll lose."

Pearl isn't buying his act. She's also starting to think Weinstein and Cheng might not even be lawyers, since they're just sitting there with intense faces. The CIA wouldn't waste money on three just for her, but three is always scarier than one. She grabs her phone from her bag and waves it around. "Right. Okay. I've been offered some pretty hefty sums for the contents of this phone here, so..."

She's lying. She hasn't offered it to anyone, but she might, depending on how this goes. The lawyers look at each other, then at Donovan, who's grinding his teeth now.

"Oh, he didn't tell you I have proof?" she asks. Judging from the bead of sweat appearing on Bergstein's forehead, Donovan failed to mention it. She flicks through the photos on her phone to find the best possible one. She holds up the phone. "Let's see, exhibit A, a photograph of yours truly in a rather compromising situation with, oh, who is that? Why, it's Donovan du Pont! This will definitely have to be censored for print."

Pearl sees the transcriber lady trying to get a closer look at the picture, so she slides her phone over. She laughs when she sees the old woman zooming in on something. Bergstein's shaking his head and the other two are still staring intently, like they don't know what else to do.

"I have more, if you guys want to see them. He's quite a literary character, this one, and his text messages are a real treat." She smiles widely, winking at the old woman who's typing away again.

Donovan clenches his fists and speaks through gritted teeth. Apparently it's not funny anymore. "I didn't think you'd sink this low."

"Yeah? I didn't think you were a cheating bastard, so I guess we were both wrong." Pearl tilts her head to the side, batting her lashes and smiling innocently.

Bergstein's got his elbow on the table and his hand flat against his face. "Mister du Pont, could you step outside?"

"I knew you were a reasonable guy, Aaron." Pearl leans back in her chair, as Donovan leaves, muttering something under his breath.

In the end, they offer her more than she thought, and she looks at the piece of paper with a scribbled number four followed by a bunch of zeros, and she's stunned, just completely speechless. She's doing the math in her head of how many pairs of Louboutins she could buy with the money. Or how many months of rent. A better television. A whole life's worth of Netflix, at least. Four-hundred-thousand slices of bad pizza. She lifts up her head after a minute or so and sees three lawyers, or one lawyer and two possible accountants, staring at her with expectation. She's trying to hold back the cries of joy to accept the offer with dignity and poise, but as she composes herself, they start whispering to one another. Aaron pulls back the paper, scribbles something on it and hands it back.

"Final offer."

Seven-hundred-thousand slices of bad pizza. She accepts, of course she accepts. They draw up paperwork and contracts and all that official business, and Pearl walks out of room 221, feeling like a complete winner. Technically, they settled, but really, like actually, she won. Donovan is sitting on the same bench again, tapping his shoes against the marble floor.

He lifts up his head a little and stares her straight in the eye. He doesn't even blink. His voice just oozes resentment. "You're a bitter bitch, you know that?"

"Bitter? If I was bitter, I'd show these to your wife. I'd send a mass email to the whole department." Pearl remains calm and collected as she puts her phone back in her bag. She's trying her best to channel Natasha's icy Russian exterior.

"Why don't you?" he asks.

Pearl stares back at him. "I'm not trying to fuck up your life. You've done that all on your own. I'm just getting what I think is fair."

She doesn't stay to hear his answer and just walks away. He screams something behind her, but she blocks it out. It's done. Over. Now she's got a good reason to have a party.


	9. Pearl-A-Palooza

****CHAPTER NINE  
PEARL-A-PALOOZA****

* * *

 _ _(6:02pm) you are cordially invited to pearl-a-palooza 2015. food and drink. tonight. avengers hub.__

Pearl is too lazy to type up anything more to her invitation and she's pretty sure the point comes across anyway, so she sends it to all the Avengers whose current whereabouts are not unknown and who are not currently in another realm or dimension or whatever the place is that Thor calls home. Bucky and Sam are already at the Facility, so she doesn't need to invite them, but she sends it to Sam anyway as a heads up, and Steve sends back that he was already coming to visit. Way to be excited for the party, Steve. She can't invite Vision, because he doesn't have a phone and she doesn't exactly know how he functions and how to get in contact with him, but that problem quickly resolves itself when Wanda replies, saying she and Vision are halfway across the world on a mission of some sort.

Clint sends a text saying he can't come, because the kids are down with mono, and Pearl sends him back a frown-faced emoji. They don't really know each other, but he's Natasha's friend, so they're kind of familiar in the sense that they've met a few times and one of those times included Pearl throwing up in his car, but he took it with humor so they're still on friendly terms. Natasha replies with a single, affirmative letter, because apparently she's even lazier than Pearl and unsurprisingly, Tony doesn't reply anything. Her party isn't exactly gathering the crowd she was hoping for, but it doesn't even matter, she's just excited to be done with the whole lawsuit thing.

Never having been much of a party planner, Pearl doesn't think to get any decorations or anything, and for food, since the only thing she can really cook well is tomato sauce, she just calls the nearest pizza place and has them deliver ten pizzas, even though she knows about seven of them will be untouched by the end of the night and she'll be eating the leftovers for all of next week. She picks up a cake and plenty of liquor on the way, just in case Natasha's feeling boozey again, even though it seems semi-pointless since apparently, due to something stupid called science, neither Steve nor Bucky are affected by alcohol.

Back at the Facility, Pearl trips over her own feet and manages to drop one of her reusable, eco-friendly shopping bags on the floor. The bottles make a lot of noise and roll around, but they don't break. They do, however, get Sam's attention. He sticks his head out of the kitchen door right as Pearl's picking up the bottles from the floor, cursing at herself. Of course it had to be the bag with all the booze in glass bottles, it couldn't have been the one with cartons of juice and soft plastic Sprite bottles. She looks up to see Sam's amused face.

"I have to ask. Are you an alcoholic?" He grins at his own stupid joke.

Pearl feigns a laugh. "Shut up and help me get this stuff to the kitchen."

Sam picks up a few bottles and helps her carry the bags to the kitchen counter. He starts unpacking things as Pearl rummages through the cabinets for something to make punch in. "I heard you had a meeting today. I guess it went well?"

Pearl looks back at him with a smile so wide it hurts the sides of her mouth. "It did."

"Was he there? Your ex?"

She finds two pitchers and decides they'll have to do while making a mental note to order a punch bowl with Stark's Amazon account. "He was."

Pearl told Donovan she didn't want to ruin his life, but she's beginning to think she might not have meant it. It's the adult thing to do, just let go and move on, but it's hard to do that when he's getting promotions and he's still married and his life just keeps getting better, and she had to start all over again. And now, Pearl has money, and she's going to love having the money, like really love it, but it doesn't feel as satisfying as she thought it would. Still, it's better to have it and be slightly unhappy than to be poor and miserable.

Sam starts setting out glasses. "I hope you crushed him."

"Kind of." Pearl pours a generous amount of Vodka into the pitchers, then adds in mango juice.

"How much did you get?" Sam asks.

Pearl shrugs casually as she tops up the pitchers with Sprite and stirs the mixtures with a spoon. "A good amount."

"Fine, don't tell me," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I'll tell you, when you tell me who you've been texting." Pearl wiggles her eyebrows, making Sam chuckle.

He crosses his arms and shakes his head, leaning his hips against the counter. "Never gonna happen."

"Why not?" She stomps her foot to the floor. She's been dying to know for days now and it's not like he can keep it a secret forever. He probably just enjoys torturing her.

"I prefer to keep some things to myself." He sounds so damn serious, it's irritating.

She pours herself a glass of her delicious mixture, adds a straw and takes a sip, while giving Sam an intense stare. "I'll give you twenty dollars for the information."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Twenty whole dollars?"

"What? I can't afford to suddenly start throwing money around."

Sam laughs, shaking his head as Pearl flashes him a bright smile. He tells her Bucky's been in his room for a while now, so she decides to go see what he's up to.

The door to Bucky's new room is open and she finds him sitting on the floor on top of her pink yoga mat with his eyes closed. His new room is much nicer than his old one. This one has windows, that are made of some type of safety glass, a bigger bed and a closet to hang all his new clothes in. There's a time lock on the door, which he still insists on setting every night just in case, but at least he's not literally behind bars anymore.

Pearl leans against the door frame with the drink in her hand. "I thought we were doing that together."

He opens his eyes and studies the expression on her face. She decides not to let on, that she's actually not that mad anymore, even though his face is making her want to just tell him that everything's fine. She curses her own soft nature, but decides to stay strong and let him wallow for a little while longer, because he really did do something wrong. It was a small thing, though, and Pearl is usually quick to forgive and forget the small things, but he doesn't need to know that yet.

He doesn't respond so she starts to leave, but turns back to say one more thing. The corner of her mouth curves upwards, because she can't help it, but he doesn't seem to really notice. "I'm having a party. You should come."

To make her look more party appropriate, Pearl takes off her blazer and unbuttons another button from her shirt. It'll have to do, even if she looks kind of like a secretary at an adult film studio. Sam puts on some music from the central speaker system or whatever it's called, and in between dancing to his awesome eighties tunes and sipping on her awesome drink, Pearl applies a fresh coat of dark red lipstick and powders her nose before people start arriving.

Thankfully, delivery guys from different furniture companies have been paying lots of visits to their door lately, and the living room is looking more and more finished every day. New additions include three leather armchairs set around the weird metal coffee table and a few pieces of modern art, like the kind where you don't know what it's supposed to be, hung up on the walls. There's a weirdly shaped bowl of fruit on the table, but knowing Tony Stark, it's probably something expensive and highly coveted even if it looks like something a third grader might make if third graders were allowed to practice glass blowing. Ugly decorations aside, at least there's a place for everyone to sit. Surprisingly, even Tony shows up, claiming his plans fell through at the last minute, but Pearl is pretty sure he just wants to hang out with everyone. Maybe not with her, but everyone else. Bucky drags himself out of his room and sits in one of the armchairs, and Pearl makes sure everyone is settled in with a drink in their hand, and tops up her own drink while at it. Even the super-humans can still enjoy the lovely flavor even if it won't get them drunk. The doorbell rings.

"Why are we having a party?" Steve asks as Pearl returns from the door with eight pizza boxes. Eight, because apparently the stupid pizza place has some sort of a limit on how many pizzas can be transported on the back of a scooter, but it'll have to do. She sets them down on the counter, opens up one and brings it over to the coffee table.

Sam reaches for a slice. "Pearly girl got herself a huge settlement."

"Are you gonna leave us now that you're rich?" Natasha asks. She's sitting in one of the chairs and the ends of her hair are lightly curled and she's wearing a cute, white silk top with jeans and Pearl is just loving all the effort she's put in.

"Of course not. I love all of you." Pearl plops down on the couch between Sam and Tony and smiles widely as she looks at everyone around, but they all look at her like she's crazy, so she points towards the drink in her hand. "It should be noted that I've been testing the effects of this punch for a while now."

"What are your results so far?" Tony asks, eyeing the glass in his hand suspiciously.

"It's very effectively getting me wasted."

Her response is met with laughter from around the table, except not from Bucky, who is just sitting there with a paper umbrella at the top of his glass, looking at her with the corners of his mouth pointing down and a crease appearing between his eyebrows. Steve starts up a conversation with him, snapping him out of thought. Natasha asks Sam if she could add some songs to the playlist and then, when Sam gives her his phone, mocks his taste in music.

Tony turns to Pearl, who is now chomping down a slice of pepperoni pizza. "You know, I could actually use some legal help next week."

"Great. I can recommend you some good lawyers," she says between bites, already running through a list in her head.

"You seem pretty capable."

Firstly, based on what and secondly, hell no, are Pearl's first thoughts as she nearly chokes on the pizza. She looks at the man in the freakishly expensive suit with her very best 'are you freaking kidding me' look. "Oh, I'm not really in that field anymore."

"Remember who signs your paychecks." He looks so smug with one eyebrow cocked and the side of his mouth tugging up, making Pearl want to hit him.

She sips on her drink through the straw while staring into his eyes, determined not to blink. "I wouldn't know, I'm still waiting for the first one."

She hasn't been working there long enough to actually get paid yet. She watches as the other corner of his mouth starts curving upwards.

"You've got a smart mouth, kid," he says. "I like that."

"My mouth has always been very appealing to men." Sometimes Pearl has problems filtering her speech. This is one of those times. She's cringing inside, but to her surprise, he starts laughing, so she laughs, too.

He clears his throat. "That's... Not something you should say to your boss."

"You'd think I would've learned that by now," Pearl says with a shrug and tops up her drink again from the pitcher on the table.

"So, Monday morning, eight o'clock. I'll pick you up," he says.

"Fine, but I'm warning you, I'm out of practice."

Understatement of the year, out of practice, more like never even worked on a real case in the real world without a professor guiding her through, but apparently she's getting back in the game now. She doesn't even dare ask what to expect. As Tony gulps down some of his drink, Pearl remembers the cake she brought. She jumps up from her seat, nearly splashing some of her cocktail. "Who wants cake?"

Nobody opposes the cake suggestion and they all follow her to the kitchen, except Bucky, who's still brooding.

"Why does it say 'Happy birthday Robert'?" Sam asks when Pearl opens up the box with the cake goodness inside. It does indeed say 'Happy Birthday Robert' in bright blue on top of the white frosting.

"Oh, somebody didn't pick this up, so I got it for a really good price."

She would never pay full price for a cake like this. They're goddamn expensive. Natasha laughs as Pearl hands her a plate, because she knows exactly how stingy Pearl can be about certain things. As the guys start cutting up the cake, Pearl goes back to the living room to see Bucky, because she thinks he's probably suffered enough and she doesn't want him to miss out on the cake.

He turns his head towards her as she sits down on the arm of the chair and crosses her legs. Her ankle softly grazes his knee. "You look miserable."

"I'm sorry," Bucky says with a frown and sighs. "I wanted to tell you right away, but I didn't know how. And it just came out and then I acted as though you owed me this information, which you don't. You don't have to tell me anything."

"It's fine, Bucky. I'm not mad." She twirls a lock of hair between her fingers.

He looks surprised. "You're not?"

Pearl shrugs. "I was, but I figured, what's the point? Life is too short to be mad at your friends. And I _should_ tell you things."

He runs his hand through his hair and seems to hesitate for a moment. "Why didn't you? Honestly? You told Steve and Sam, why not me?"

"Honestly?" Pearl asks, looking down at her hands. She looks up again to see his expecting face and the freaking alcohol makes her tell the truth instead of a half-assed lie even she herself couldn't believe. "I was afraid you'd see me differently."

"But you don't care what people think." His eyes drill into hers and she looks back at her hands again only to get an instant reminder to take better care of her nails.

She bites on her lower lip, before remembering she's still wearing lipstick and can only hope it's not on her teeth now. "Usually? No."

"I wouldn't have judged you."

She looks back up at him. He blinks. "No?"

"Of course not. I could never. You're one hell of a broad, you know that?" Bucky says. Pearl's been called many things, but never that. She feels her cheeks burning and it's not from the alcohol.

"And you, you are a very, very sweet man, Sergeant Barnes."

Pearl extends out her arms to give him a hug, but he's taken aback by it and sort of retreats, making her lose her balance and the slippery leather causes her to fall right into his lap, with her arms around his neck, and he instinctively grabs onto her thigh so she doesn't completely fall off, and even though there's a thick fabric between his hand and her thigh, it feels sort of dirty, but in a good way.

Bucky smirks. "I think you're drunk again."

"I might be."

Pearl blinks slowly and flashes a big smile while looking him in the eyes, and it's like that moment in Starbucks all over again. He removes his hand from her thigh, and she finds herself staring at his lips, and they look really soft, and he just smells really good, fresh and manly, but not manly like he's been swimming in cologne or anything, and she could just be imagining, but it felt as though his hand lingered on her leg for longer than necessary, and she realizes her arms are still wrapped around his neck and he's got really nice shoulders and why isn't he telling her to get off his lap? Natasha's voice snaps her out of thought.

"Pearl! Can I see you over here for a minute?"

Pearl looks over to see Natasha standing by the doorway to the kitchen, with her arms crossed and a disapproving stare on her face, and lets go of Bucky and she could almost swear his cheeks turn slightly pinker when the whole moment abruptly comes to an end.

"Okay, no more punch for you," Natasha says when Pearl reluctantly drags herself over.

"Why?" Pearl drags out the word, as if she doesn't know why. Natasha just wants to ruin stuff.

"Because you told me nothing was going on, and now it seems like something is, so I know you're really drunk," Natasha says.

Pearl rolls her eyes. "He's my friend. I was just hugging him."

Natasha is clearly not believing a word. "Yeah. You probably don't remember, but last time, around closing, you were hugging that bartender at Murphy's before I dragged your ass out of there."

"Oh." The imagery is slowly coming back to Pearl, making her remember that drunk Pearl does not always, or ever, make the best decisions, no matter how good they feel in the moment. She smiles and wraps her arms around Natasha. "Thanks for that. You're a really good friend."

"Yes, you're very lucky to have me." Natasha pats her on the back and the tone of her voice is exactly what eye rolling would sound like if it had a sound.

Pearl lets Natasha go and shouts at Bucky to come have cake. He, having witnessed the awkward one-sided hug, gives her a funny look but follows anyway. She grabs plates and slices up some cake for herself and Bucky and they join everybody at the kitchen table. Steve congratulates her on the settlement, because he's polite like that, and she thanks him.

"Can I ask you, why are you celebrating with us? What about your family?" he asks.

"My family? Wow, that's... It's a long story. I can give you the short version," Pearl says, poking at her cake with a fork. Steve nods. "They're in Ohio."

"That's... Definitely short," Steve says. Pearl shrugs and shoves some cake in her mouth.

"Will you be here tomorrow? I know it's Saturday," Bucky asks, making Pearl remember she's actually got plans tomorrow. Plans that were forgotten somewhere between seven-hundred-thousand dollars and Bucky's lap.

"Well, I can't drive home, and I don't wanna pay for a cab, so I'll sleep here, but I've actually got a date tomorrow. I'll be here all morning, though."

"A date? With who?" Natasha asks, making Pearl remember she forgot to tell her redheaded friend about it. She sure is getting forgetful in her old age.

"His name's Tyler. I met him at Costco the other day," she says casually.

Tyler gave her his number, and she wasn't going to call, because of the celibacy thing, that really started as a joke, but evolved into a journey of self-discovery, that ended with her discovering that celibacy is not a good thing for her, when she's spending all her time in close quarters with a sexy man. Maybe, if she had a boyfriend, she would spend less time thinking about Bucky in inappropriate ways, and that could only benefit their friendship and his recovery. That is what sober Pearl thought, anyway, drunk Pearl just wants to discard all that and fall into his arms again. But it would be wrong. So very wrong.

Bucky's face scrunches up. "What? When?"

"When you and Sam went to get the ice cream," Pearl says, making a mental note to check if there is any ice cream left. It would go great with the cake.

"We were gone for five minutes," Bucky says. Sam is nodding along, following the conversation intently.

"What's your point?" If drunk Pearl didn't know any better, she might think he was jealous, because it sounds like this information is somehow getting to him.

"Nothing. Have fun." He looks down at his slice of cake when he says it.

"If you need me, I can cancel it," Pearl suggests, thinking maybe he has something really important to tell her. Maybe he's been having dreams again. Maybe he's just having a rough time. Maybe he's just really used to having her around and he is, in fact, jealous, but not in a romantic way, just in the way that Pearl remembers being, when her little brother would get all the attention.

Bucky shakes his head. "No. It's about time for me to become more independent."

The next day, Tyler (black hair, blue eyes, average height, white teeth, shops at Costco) takes Pearl to an expensive French restaurant. Pearl, not being a big fan of French food or people, orders white wine and a weird sounding salad, hoping it doesn't include snails or frog legs and smiles politely, when he says it's his favorite place to eat. He's a bit stiff and formal, but Pearl chalks that up to nerves. He tells her he's an investment banker at Goldman Sachs, which already makes Pearl want to run for the hills, but she decides to give him a chance, anyway, since he's got a nice smile and nice eyes and he might not be all bad. She decides not to tell him about majoring in economics back in college, because thirty minutes into their date, he's already spent a good ten describing his extraordinary vision on how to fix the American economy, and it doesn't really even make sense, and she doesn't want to have to explain that to him, and also because she would like to do something other than talk about economics on a first date. But apparently he's into it. So into it, in fact, that he forgets to ask her what she does for a living. In fact, he forgets to ask her anything at all.

Pearl tries to steer the conversation into another direction by telling Tyler the funny little anecdote, that most people find, if not delightful then at least somewhat charming, about when she was sixteen and pretended to steal something from the mall, because she thought the security guard was really cute. He turned out to be 24 years old. They dated for six months.

She leaves out the part about his age, as she usually does so people don't get their panties twisted, and she doesn't mention that it's still the longest relationship she's ever had. She doesn't have a problem admitting to how many exes or one night stands there have been, since the actual number is smaller than people, aka Natasha, seem to think, but sometimes she tells little white lies or just conveniently forgets to mention things, so she doesn't come off as a complete nut job that just can't pick a decent guy, but she's pretty sure everyone does that.

Tyler doesn't even pretend to laugh at the story, let alone smile, not even at the part where Pearl runs up the down-going escalator, gets her shoelace stuck, yanks out her foot and keeps running, leaving the shoe behind. Instead, he asks about her finances, her job situation, where she sees herself in five years and if she plans on having any children. The whole thing feels like a really inappropriate job interview, especially when he starts the third degree regarding past relationships. On a first date.

Luckily, this is not a man Pearl is trying to impress, so she orders another glass of white wine to drink while she listens to him blabbing on about the three serious relationships he's had and how they weren't ready to commit to him and have his children and how he's _so_ ready to start a family and move upstate. Pearl might understand it, if they were pushing forty, but they're still young. He seemed so nice and normal back at Costco. She's definitely never picking up a man in the cereal aisle again.

Pearl gulps down the last of her wine, sets the glass on the table and looks Tyler straight in the eye. "My last relationship was basically just me and my married boss, banging in his office."

"I don't think this is going to work out," Tyler says, already waving for the check. Pearl doesn't even have a chance to suggest they split it, before Tyler quickly throws some money on the table, says it should cover his share and just leaves, barely even saying goodbye, like he's in such a freaking hurry to settle down he can't waste two minutes with the wrong woman. And the money he leaves ends up being just a few dollars short of his share, so not only does Pearl have to pay for the freaking twenty-five dollar salad she barely touched, she also has to take care of the whole tip. The waiter, having seen Tyler rushing out, asks what happened.

"My boyfriend just told me he got my best friend pregnant. And then, he told me to move out by the end of the day. And then, he left me here with the check."

It's not her best story ever, but it is good enough to get a free meal and a slice of cheesecake to-go.

After the most boring date in the history of the world, ever, like seriously the wine was the only highlight of the whole thing, Pearl goes home to her tiny, tiny apartment. It's pretty much just a small, square space with one wall making up the kitchen area, that consists of a fridge, stove, one tall cabinet and a sink that has one of those big cutting board things on top of it. She has a twin bed with bright blue bedding against an exposed brick wall, a flat-screen TV hung up on the wall right opposite it, and two clear, plastic chairs and a tiny, white table between the bed and the kitchen. Her bathroom is a lovely shade of seventies ochre yellow, which Pearl actually thinks is so ugly it's cool, and so small she couldn't even lie down straight on the floor without hitting something. She's got a small closet, overflowing with clothes, and she keeps shoe boxes under the bed.

Her walls are empty, except for one picture hanging above the light switch near the door. It's a picture of her whole family ten years ago, sitting on the steps of their house. It was taken the summer of Patrick's wedding and he'd just got back from honeymooning in Hawaii, so he's all tan in the picture and his dark hair is longer than his law firm would ever allow and he's got a messy beard and his teeth look glaringly white against his skin. Her younger brother Philip's a funny blond kid with funny ears that stick out from the sides of his head and he's got his left arm in a cast, because, according to the official story that Pearl and Pip made up, he fell out of a tree. In reality, he landed on it while attempting to flip his skateboard, which he wasn't actually allowed to even own, hence the elaborate cover-up.

That summer, Penelope had just graduated from college and gotten a tattoo of her sorority's Greek letters on her hip and she made Pearl swear not to tell mom and dad. It's possible they still don't know. Seventeen-year-old Pearl looks bored out of her mind in the picture, wearing a black hoodie and denim shorts and clutching her old Nokia flip-phone in her hands, smiling the fakest possible smile. Dad has his arm around mom. His dark hair has a bit of grey coming in, even back then. Mom always said four kids caused enough stress to make anyone go grey.

Pearl looks at the picture and sighs. Damn Steve had to go and ask about her family. At least the photo is nice. She puts the cheesecake into the fridge, changes into an oversized t-shirt, doesn't bother washing her face because taking two steps to the bathroom feels like too much work and crawls into bed to do some wine induced online shopping on her phone. She falls asleep somewhere between Amazon and Zappos.

A while later, the doorbell rings, waking her up, and at first Pearl thinks it's the alarm clock so she fumbles around to find her phone and turn it off, but it's not the alarm. The clock on her screen says it's twelve past two in the morning, so she rolls out of bed to go open the door and to curse whoever thinks this is an appropriate time for a visit.

"Bucky? What the hell are you doing here?"


	10. A Good Night For Bad Decisions

**CHAPTER TEN  
** **A GOOD NIGHT FOR BAD DECISIONS**

* * *

There's something very surreal about the fact that it's two in the morning and Bucky is standing in Pearl's doorway, because it seems like the kind of thing that wouldn't happen in a million years, since he's supposed to be behind a time lock in a completely secure building and not roaming the streets of New York by himself, and she's supposed to be sleeping and not standing there in her oversized NYU t-shirt, that luckily covers the red lace panties she's wearing, waiting for him to say something, anything really. She wonders if she's having one of those dreams where you know you're dreaming and you can do whatever you want. She pinches herself and it hurts, but that could really mean anything.

"I had something to tell you," Bucky says.

Pearl studies his expression. It gives nothing away. "I'm not much of a history buff, but I'm pretty sure telephones were a thing even in 1940-something."

Pearl is sure she'll have to explain to Mrs Huffman, who lives down the hall, why there was a man at her door at such an ungodly hour and listen to her yammering on about how much of a disturbance Pearl is to the building, and then Pearl will have to go threaten Eddie, Mrs Huffman's son who lives on the top floor, to tell his mother to stop or Pearl will have to tell Mrs Huffman about the weed he's growing in the apartment she pays for, and then Pearl will feel horrible, because she actually likes Eddie. The damage is probably done, but she can still try to minimize it, so she grabs onto Bucky's sleeves to pull him into the apartment.

"Come in and tell me what was so important it couldn't-"

Bucky pulls back, making her take a few unbalanced steps towards him and she lets go, completely taken aback by what's happening, since he's basically so close now, she can feel his breath and he's so tall, he's towering over her and looking directly into her eyes as he slides one hand to the nape of her neck, making her tremble, and the metal one to the small of her back and pulls her in even closer, and she's just standing there, completely frozen with shock like she's never been in this kind of a situation before. When he leans in to kiss her, Pearl can only hope it's just a really freaking realistic dream, but since that's probably not the case, she's pretty sure just going with the flow is going to end up on her list of regrets, but her brain, heart or libido won't let her stop it, so she wraps her arms around his neck and decides to allow herself this one indiscretion. Just a little something to add to the sea of bad decisions that make up her life.

Bucky kisses, like really absolutely kisses Pearl. It's not a quick peck that's barely there, or a dry lips, closed mouth kind of smooch, it's an intense, rough, make your legs turn into jelly kind of kiss. And he doesn't stop at just one. His soft lips find hers over and over again as he's holding her tightly against his chest, and it's making her very hot, and his hand is caressing the nape of her neck, sending cold shivers down her back and she feels like she's got a fever or something, because the hot and the cold are mixing, and it feels like her legs are almost giving out or possibly have already given out and she's just barely standing, she can't even tell because he's holding on so tight. She can hear her own heart beating like it's between her ears and between every kiss she feels his hot, panting breath on her skin.

As she runs her hands through his hair, his perfectly soft, fluffy hair, she feels his metal fingers digging into her back, making her want to scream out from pain or pleasure or a weird mixture of the two, but the only thing she can manage is a soft moan. Her whole body trembles as he slides his hand down her spine and back up again.

This is definitely not a kiss one would expect from a gentleman of yesteryear, but maybe passion is one of those things that stays constant through time. It's also possible that Bucky has seventy years worth of pent up sexual energy waiting to be released and it's also been a while since Pearl has last had a moment of passion like this, which is probably why she's finding it quite difficult to stop, but it could also be because she doesn't remember it ever being quite like this. Close, sure, but not quite. It's also very possible that it's two in the morning, she's supposedly celibate and her freaking mind is playing tricks on her, trying to get her back to the dark side with all the men and their troubles and lies, and she knows Bucky isn't like that, but it's not a good idea. She should really stop. Right after this one last kiss, or two.

Two, four, maybe seven kisses later, Pearl, instead of ripping off his shirt like something evil in her mind is telling her to do, forces herself to break free from the moment, letting her arms down and gently pushing against his chest as she pulls back, and he loosens his grip, looking into her eyes, sort of startled by the abrupt ending.

Pearl tries to catch her breath along with her train of thought. She scratches her head while trying to form a sentence. "Okay, yeah, uh, I guess that would've been hard to do over the phone."

"I'm sorry." He lets go, looking down at his shoes. "I shouldn't have done that."

She wants to tell him to do it again, this time on the bed with his body on top of hers, but that would be bad. Very bad.

"Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal."

She doesn't really know what else to say. She didn't expect regret to hit so quickly, and she didn't really expect for it to hit him, but it's not like she can blame him. He shouldn't have kissed her, and she should have made him stop. It's turning out to be a good night for bad decisions.

Bucky shakes his head and closes the door behind him. "It's not appropriate."

"Yeah. We all do stupid things, it's fine." She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, before looking up at his serious face and she can't help but smile a little.

"I know there's another man courting you. I was too forward," he says with his nose all crinkled up.

Courting? What the fuck is courting? It sounds like something straight out of medieval times and if Tyler's the reason Bucky has deemed the kissing inappropriate, he's way off.

"What?" Pearl shakes her head and waves her hands in front of her face for added emphasis. "I had one date. I don't even like him."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"No. He was a total jerk." And even if he hadn't been, it was just one date. Pearl knows Bucky is new to this world, but she didn't think he would be quite so conventional.

"Oh." He surveys the apartment around him, and Pearl is just thankful she doesn't have any underwear lying around anywhere. He looks back at her. "Can I take you out?"

"What? Why?" It comes out snappier than she intends.

Bucky simply shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Because you deserve to be treated properly, and I didn't do that. I would like to."

Pearl bites on her lower lip. "You think that's a good idea?"

She goes to sit on the edge of her bed and wraps herself in a blanket.

"You don't?" he asks, and Pearl doesn't know whether she should tell him about her concerns or just pretend she's not into him, since it's completely plausible to have a heated moment like that with someone you're not interested in, although that would open up the question of why she didn't stop him straight away, but even that could be explained somehow. Maybe she's just so desperate for physical contact that just about anyone will do. That might hurt his feelings, but so could honesty. Nobody likes being rejected for being too fucked up in the head, but maybe it's better to just tell the truth. He's been lied to enough already.

"I'm worried about you. You're still kind of a mess. If we start dating, it'll be so easy to pretend everything's fine."

It'll be so easy to slip into that bubble again, the one where everything is normal and he doesn't have to keep reliving his past because he can just focus on the future. Pearl is pretty sure recovering alcoholics are discouraged against new relationships, because she saw something like that on TV once, and while Bucky is not an alcoholic, he's been brainwashed and that sounds like a pretty good reason, too.

Bucky takes a few steps closer. He doesn't seem offended, if anything, he looks kind of smug. "You're not going to let me do that."

How can he be so sure? As if Pearl is so strong she could resist falling into that new relationship, never get out of bed, only have eyes for each other phase, although she isn't sure if that would even happen since he's from a time where that probably wasn't a thing, and just thinking about it is making her train of thought derail in the worst possible ways, or maybe the best, depending on how you look at it. Either way, it wouldn't be easy.

"It's not that simple. I don't want to be a distraction from your recovery."

Pearl looks down at her feet. She didn't think saying no would be this hard, but she truly believes it would be best for everyone, since she's not exactly Miss Long-term Relationship and he's not exactly a poster boy for mental health right now.

"Pearl." He gently grabs her by her chin and pulls her head up. "You are my whole recovery."

Why does he have to say stuff like that when she's trying to let him down easy? One of them needs to be thinking clearly right now, and it's obviously not going to be Bucky.

Pearl sighs. "I'm sorry, Bucky."

His expression doesn't falter. He lets go of her chin. "No. Don't say no. Don't say anything. You're always talking, it's my turn now."

Bucky takes a deep breath as he sits down next to her. "You've been making most of my decisions lately and you keep making me do things I don't want to do, and in the end, you're always right."

Pearl nods. It's good that he's acknowledged the fact that she is always right, even if half the time, she has no idea what she's actually doing.

"But you're not right about this. It's my turn. Next Friday night, we're going on a date. We might have to take Sam with us, but that's fine, he can get his own table," he says, looking straight into her eyes without even a blink.

Clearly, he's very serious about not letting her say no, which is kind of hot in a way, even though Pearl should probably be offended, because he's a man and she's supposedly a feminist, but she's mostly just flattered. It also opens a whole other box of questions like why is he so adamant on this, it's not like there aren't a billion other women out there in the world, which in turn, brings up the question of if he's just interested, because she's always around and he never sees anyone else, and they've been dealing with some heavy stuff together, and she's heard of people falling for their AA sponsors or therapists and stuff. Maybe it's something unhealthy like that. But, instead of diving into all that at this hour, she just asks the first stupid question that comes to mind.

"Why Friday?"

"Friday night is date night," Bucky says, like it's obvious. He's like a blast from the past, straight out of an old movie or something.

"Here in the twenty-first century, every night can be date night." Pearl wants to smack herself over the head right after she says it, and a smile appears on his face.

"Fine. Monday night it is, then."

Oh, fuck. That's the day after tomorrow, but since it's basically already Sunday, it's actually tomorrow, and it's the same day as her stupid thing with Tony, that she still knows nothing about. If she had just kept her mouth shut, she would've had almost a week to figure out how to get out of this thing, this bad idea, this complete recipe for disaster.

"Uh, so, how did you even get here?" Pearl asks, changing the subject.

"By car."

"What car?"

Bucky points to the window. Pearl gets up to see and just outside her window, one of many sports cars adorned with a Stark license plate is parked. Pearl doesn't know if she should be mad that Bucky basically stole a car, shocked that he managed to find a parking spot right outside her building or just really freaking flattered he felt such a need to kiss her that he couldn't wait any longer. Maybe that's pushing it. Perhaps he just came here to talk and then got swept away by his feelings. It's still flattering, even if it's not right. Tony is probably going to blame her for this, but maybe that will get her off the hook with the legal thing.

She realizes something and turns back to face him. "How did you know where I live?"

Bucky shrugs. "The car asked me where I was going. I said your name."

Right. Of course the car has a talking GPS with her address in it. Pearl's phone beeps twice, so she picks it up from the bed to see two messages from Sam.

 _(2:40am) quick question  
_ _(2:40am) where the hell is Bucky?_

Pearl rolls her eyes. If she ever has children, she is definitely not asking Sam to babysit. She types back a response.

 _(2:40am) he's here_

Bucky gets up to look at the family picture on Pearl's wall. Her phone beeps twice.

 _(2:41am) what?  
_ _(2:41am) r u sleeping w/ him?_

Of course he would think that. Why couldn't his first thought be that maybe Bucky got out, wandered around with no memories of anything and Pearl just randomly stumbled upon him? Why does everybody keep assuming there's something going on? And yes, there might actually be something going on right now, but they don't know that. She lets out an exasperated sigh.

 _(2:41am) NO!  
_ _(2:42am) jackass_

Bucky must think she's so rude for suddenly just texting while he's still around. "Sam is just asking where you are." He mumbles something in response, still staring at the picture on the wall.

 _(2:42am) sry  
_ _(2:42am) don't tell steve i lost him_

Sam didn't tell Steve about Bucky's fit of robotic rage, so Pearl owes him and she won't tell. Even if he is a jackass. Pearl throws her phone on the bed. "You have to get the car back before Tony notices it was gone."

Bucky turns back to face her, digs around in his pocket and hands her the car keys.

Pearl looks at the keys, then back at him. "What are you doing?"

"Technically I don't have a driver's license," he says, still dangling the keys in front of her. She swats away his hand.

"Yeah, you're still driving it back," she says. He gives her a confused look. "I don't drive."

His face gets all scrunched up again. "You drive that little scooter."

"I don't drive cars," Pearl simply says with a shrug, trying not to take offense about the little scooter remark. "Now go."

Pearl opens the door and he enters the hallway. "Fine. I'll see you later?"

She nods. He leaves and she watches as he goes down the stairs, biting on her thumbnail.

It's not often Pearl finds herself in a situation where she really doesn't know what to do, but when she does, it's usually a good idea to call Natasha. Like that time four years ago when she had to get to Ohio and didn't have any money or anything and Natasha gave her a ride, even though it's like a nine hour drive. Pearl is definitely calling Natasha first thing in the morning. There is no way that this date is a good idea, and Natasha will surely agree.

She notices a ray of light on the hallway floor, coming through Mrs Huffman's cracked door.

"If you have something to say, you're very welcome to come out here."

The door slams shut. Pearl rolls her eyes before stepping back inside and closing the door behind her.


	11. Natasha Romanoff, Life Coach

**CHAPTER ELEVEN  
** ** **NATASHA ROMANOFF,**** ** **LIFE COACH****

* * *

On a nice, warm Saturday, just a little over four years ago, Pearl met Natasha for the first time. She remembers the day very well, because it was the day her whole family came to New York to celebrate her little brother Philip's fifteenth birthday, which he wanted to spend in Madison Square Garden, watching the Rangers' game, because he had a really weird obsession with hockey back then, and their dad bought ridiculously expensive, stale beers for everyone except Pip, and Pearl let him drink hers whenever mom and dad weren't looking, and Patrick found it hilarious when Pip threw up on the cab ride back to their hotel. It was, by far, the best hockey game ever.

After that, Pearl had a closing shift at the bar she worked at. It was a dingy little place with three regular customers that sat there everyday from the moment it opened in the morning till the very end of the night when she kicked them out. They were pretty much the only customers to ever grace that horrible establishment with their presence. Occasionally would someone wander in from the street, only to take a quick look and turn on their heels to get out as fast as possible. It was a great place to work, because she could spend all her time studying and nobody really expected her to do any actual work, but sadly it closed down before Pearl finished her degree, and was replaced by a frozen yogurt place.

That Saturday was just like any other at the bar. Pearl had her giant, enormous, massive Administrative Law textbook and a cup of peanuts on the counter and the three regulars sitting in the corner, minding their own business, asking her for a refill every now and then. The door opened, but it wasn't until the person that would later introduce herself as Natasha walked up to the bar, that Pearl realized somebody had actually come in and stood up from her book to see a redheaded woman dressed in all black, observing her surroundings while furiously tapping on her cellphone.

Natasha pulled up a picture on her phone and showed it to Pearl. "Have you seen this man?"

"What are you, a cop?" Pearl asked, looking at the picture of a man with glasses and dark hair, whom she'd definitely never seen before, and then back at this weird mysterious woman, who she could only hope was somebody legit and not a mobster or a hitman or something.

"No."

Pearl raised an eyebrow. "FBI? CIA?"

Natasha rolled her eyes and sighed. "No. Have you seen him or not?"

Pearl took one more look at the guy on the screen and shook her head. "Nope. Nobody ever comes here."

"Damn it." Natasha sat down on a bar stool and began typing something on her phone.

"Want a drink? It's on the house." Pearl held up a bottle of vodka, and Natasha hesitated for a while before nodding. After another approving nod while she held up a carton of orange juice, Pearl mixed the two. She wasn't all that well-versed in the art of mixing drinks, because the guys in the corner were big fans of beer and nothing else, but this one was a rather simple concoction.

Pearl left the bottle and carton on the counter, in case her new customer needed a refill, which she did, approximately fifteen minutes later. She slammed her book shut and leaned on the counter. "So, who's the guy? Why are you looking for him?"

Natasha took a sip. "That's classified."

"Cool."

Natasha didn't reveal much of herself during that first meeting, and Pearl didn't mind it, because it meant the conversation mostly revolved around her, but she did get some snippets of information out of her new acquaintance, that were at least enough to convince Pearl that Natasha was probably not a hitman or a mobster nor had she escaped from a mental asylum, and Pearl figured it was probably best not to ask too many questions. About a year later, giant and ugly space worms came out of a hole in the sky and destroyed, among other things, the library at NYU and parts of the campus, and Pearl saw the worms and Natasha on television, and suddenly Natasha's earlier text, telling Pearl not to leave the house that day, made a lot of sense, and Natasha's story began to unfold.

A week after their very first meeting, Natasha completely surprised Pearl by agreeing to drive her all the way to her hometown of Gates Mills, Ohio, because Pearl couldn't afford to take a plane or a train and didn't really have anyone else to ask and she kind of didn't even mean to ask Natasha, because they had literally met once and talked on the phone once, but somehow it happened anyway. It's possible Natasha just took pity on Pearl. During their terribly long road trip, Pearl revealed to Natasha her plans for the future. Her shiny, new plans that were born to go with the shiny, new philosophy she had on life.

"I'm quitting school."

Natasha looked at Pearl, her mouth slightly open, then back at the road and back at Pearl before settling on keeping her eyes on the highway. Her mouth seemed to be trying to find the right words and her eyes seemed to be trying to see if Pearl was serious.

Pearl shrugged. "I don't want to waste my life doing something I don't love."

"Then why did you go to law school?" Natasha asked with a furrowed brow.

Pearl stretched out her legs over the dashboard. "I had a plan. I was following that plan. But I can't do it anymore. Life is short."

"I think you're making a mistake," Natasha said.

Pearl sighed. "Whatever."

Natasha looked to be hesitating for a while. "Your brother wouldn't want you to quit."

"Okay, you don't know him, so you're not allowed to say that," Pearl snapped. She knew Nat had a point, she just didn't want to be reminded of it. She crossed her arms and turned to face the window. "You don't even know me."

"I know you'd be stupid to quit," Natasha said calmly.

Pearl shot a deadly glare towards Natasha. "Then I'm stupid."

"You're not that stupid."

That conversation, however petty and childish it sounds looking back at it, is the reason Pearl calls Natasha when she needs to get perspective on things, even if she doesn't always like hearing what Natasha has to say.

They're in Pearl's apartment. Natasha is calmly sitting at the table with a cup of coffee while Pearl paces herself around the room. It's eight in the morning, and she has barely slept since the whole thing with Bucky happened last night. Luckily, Natasha was quick to arrive after Pearl left her a short, panicked voicemail some time during the night, and now she's completely caught up on the whole thing, assuming she understood anything beyond Pearl's arm flailing and the what the hells and oh my gods and what will I dos.

"Do you need a drink?" Natasha asks. Pearl stops dead in her tracks and turns to look at her friend. Obviously she doesn't expect Natasha to be freaking out quite like she is, but how can Nat just sit there like this isn't the biggest thing in the world right now?

"No. I need to be clear-headed for this." Pearl shakes her head, pretty sure that alcohol, especially alcohol at this hour, would be very bad for her decision making. Natasha points to the other chair, and Pearl sits down. "It's crazy, right? I can't do it. I shouldn't."

Natasha takes a sip of the coffee she brought from a coffee shop down the street, knowing very well that Pearl's tiny kitchen is not equipped with a coffee maker. She sets down the cup. "Why not?"

Pearl doesn't even know where to start with such a stupid question. It's like they haven't been over this once before. "It's totally, uh, it's... It's unethical, that's what it is."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "You're not his doctor."

"Well I know that! But still." Pearl bites on her lower lip. "He's still... Incomplete."

"He's doing really well. Because of you, I might add." Natasha continues sipping on her coffee just completely casually.

"He said the same thing, but that's just it, what if he doesn't really like me?"

Natasha puts down the coffee and looks at Pearl like she's crazy, which isn't surprising since she probably looks like she is with her wide eyes and her intense stare and the fact that she's not really blinking and she's waving her hands around again.

"What? He escaped from a highly secure building, stole a car and drove to your apartment at two in the morning just to kiss you, because you had a date with another man. If that doesn't tell you something, I don't know what will."

"Maybe he's just really confused. I mean, people fall for their kidnappers all the time," Pearl says, completely serious. She's given this thing a lot of thought.

Natasha shakes her head and tries to form words. She stares at Pearl. "You didn't kidnap him."

Technically, no, but kind of. She's a part of the group that held him captive, even though he did basically choose to be there. Maybe it wasn't the best analogy. "People fall for their therapists, too. And doctors. Some people fall for their own mothers."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Natasha asks, raising her voice a little. Her expression is something between shock and anger with a little worry mixed in.

"What if there's some sort of fucked up Stockholm syndrome, Oedipus complex hybrid going on?" Pearl asks.

"Do you hear yourself? You're starting to sound psychotic."

Pearl can't help where her mind goes, but Natasha might not be completely wrong. She might have taken her quest to find reasons not to go on this date a little too far, but it's completely possible that Bucky's feelings for her are not coming from a healthy source. She's just trying to protect him.

Natasha's eyes become narrower and she leans in a little closer. "What is going on? This isn't like you."

"What do you mean?" Pearl asks.

"You're being really neurotic," Natasha says, staring straight into Pearl's eyes.

Pearl fiddles with the watch on her wrist, trying to avoid eye contact. "I'm just trying to do the right thing. He's not fit to be making these decisions."

Natasha reaches across the table and gently swats Pearl's wrist. Pearl stops fiddling and looks at Natasha. "The Pearl I know would've slept with him when he showed up last night."

"So not true." Pearl is deeply offended. She's also never going to mention that she really had to fight herself to keep that from happening. She gets up and goes to fall onto the bed.

"Totally is. And then you would've told me life is short, blah blah blah, go with the flow. All that crap." Natasha follows and sits down onto the bed, crossing her legs. She picks up a pillow and holds it in her lap. "But you really like him."

Pearl looks at Natasha, who's tilting her head to the side, observing, and throws her hands up. "Yes! Yes, I do! That's exactly why I don't want to fuck him up."

"No, that's not it. You really care for him, and that scares you, so you're making up excuses."

Since when did Natasha become such a great therapist? Pearl sighs. "It can't be right, can it?"

"That you finally found a man that doesn't treat you like garbage? Yeah, doesn't sound right." Natasha rolls her eyes.

Pearl sits up on the edge of her bed, burying her face in her hands. It's not like Natasha doesn't have a point. There may be a part of her that is scared, but just a little. Or maybe a lot. It was easy to start a relationship with her boss, because she knew it could never go anywhere, because it was forbidden and because he wasn't really all that interesting anyway and the whole thing was really just about physical attraction and sexual chemistry. And she always felt like Donovan cared more for her, than she did for him, and obviously, that part was probably a lie, but even that lie wasn't the one that hurt most when the whole thing came crumbling down. It was the wife and kids thing, that really got to her. He made her a homewrecker. She didn't get to choose that title, he forced it on her. Of course, their home wasn't exactly wrecked in the literary definition of the word, but the point still stands.

And then, it was easy to go on a date with Tyler, because he was just supposed to be something to help her get over Bucky, but he couldn't even make it through one date without the jerk inside him busting through, thus not being a very successful distraction. In fact, his very existence acted as a catalyst for last night. Pearl is seriously never picking up a man in Costco again. Nothing good can come of it.

So yeah, maybe she is scared, but maybe she's got good reasons to be.

"Did I ever tell you about Jake?" Pearl asks, letting go of her face.

Natasha nods. "Yeah. Security guard guy. He cheated on you."

Pearl clears her throat. "Well, there's more to that story. We dated for six months before we had sex, because I was sixteen and I wanted to wait until I knew he really loved me. I was really naive."

The whole Jake thing has become her go-to funny anecdote, that she's told so many times she's lost count, but she never tells anyone the full story. Not even Natasha until now.

"And then we did it and when it was over, he told me to get the fuck out of there before his girlfriend comes home."

It's not like it's the worst thing, that has ever happened to anyone in the history of the world, but it was her first love and even though it was eleven years ago, it's still a part of her.

"Seriously?" Natasha asks. "What did you do?"

Pearl laughs a little. "I threw a brick through his windshield."

Luckily, Pearl's dad knew all the cops in town, which made it very hard for Jake to get any kind of justice for the damage, and Pearl didn't even get into any trouble with her parents. Her dad said it was a perfectly understandable reaction and her mom... Well, her mom just kind of ignored the whole thing, but for that whole month she went to church three times a week and dragged Philip along with her, but he was eight, so he didn't really get what was going on.

Natasha laughs, sort of.

"He pretended to care about me for six months to get what he wanted. He broke my heart," Pearl says. Natasha's face looks pitiful. "And they're all the same, which is why I don't really do the whole feelings thing."

"Right. Because the more you care, the more it hurts when it's over," Natasha says.

Pearl nods. "Exactly."

Life is short, what's the point of wasting it with unnecessary heartbreak if it can be avoided? She may be full of excuses regarding the Bucky situation, but just because they're excuses, doesn't mean they're not still real concerns, that may in fact end up being the reason their relationship won't work. Or maybe the fact that she's never been in a real, adult relationship that lasted for more than a few months and wouldn't even know how to act or what to do, would become somewhat of a problem.

Natasha's got sort of a blank look on her face. "That's really stupid."

"Well, gee, thanks." She grabs the pillow from Natasha. Natasha does not deserve it.

"You weren't even trying to impress Bucky and he fell for you anyway. He likes you for who you really are." It's funny how she sounds so sweet. Pearl is used to a more sarcastic commentary in their day to day conversations, so this is a refreshing side to Natasha. "And you're stupid, if you're going to dismiss this, just because you're scared."

So far, whenever Pearl's needed help, Natasha's offered good advice. She was right about school, she encouraged Pearl to send in her application to the CIA and as a bonus, saved her from ugly space worms. Pearl remembers all that, but it's not that easy to just start believing in love or whatever.

Pearl shakes her head. "Nothing ever works out."

"You'll never know if you don't try. He's a good guy," Natasha says. There's that sweet side again.

"But what if-"

"Stop it. No more what ifs." Natasha sighs loudly. "It's a date. You go, you eat and you talk. You keep your legs closed and your head above the table. You'll be fine."

Pearl isn't convinced. "I'll be fine?"

"You might even end up being happy."

Pearl falls back onto the bed again. Apparently, there's no getting out of this thing, since the score is now two against one. At least if this whole thing goes to hell, Pearl will have two people to say 'I told you so' to.

"What am I going to do about Stark?" Pearl asks, remembering her other problem. The one where Tony forced her to offer legal help and didn't tell her anything about what for. The thing that's also on Monday. Tomorrow.

Natasha shrugs. "Go and be a kick-ass lawyer."

"But I'm completely incompetent. I've forgotten everything," Pearl says, seriously considering just suffocating herself with the pillow.

"I have a feeling that's not exactly true." Natasha lays back on the bed.

"He could walk into any school and find a first year law student that would be a better choice than me," Pearl says, only slightly exaggerating, but it's almost true.

She might have been almost at the top of her class back at graduation, but even most graduates are completely useless for the first year after school and have no idea how to actually be a lawyer, and Pearl is at that level. More accurately, she was at that level before she spent a little under three years doing everything but practicing law. She can only hope whatever it is, turns out to be a small thing, because if not, then she'll have to seriously question Tony's state of mind.

"Are you going to flip out again?" Natasha asks.

Pearl turns to face her. "Yes."

"You don't even know what he wants."


	12. Monday

****CHAPTER TWELVE  
**** ** **MONDAY****

* * *

Sunday turns out to be just another normal day at the New Avengers Facility and it's almost like nothing ever happened. In fact, everything is so normal, that Pearl begins to wonder if it was all in her head. Pearl and Bucky spend the day organizing files, talking about Bucky's time in the Army and learning how to make a mug full of chocolate cake in the microwave, though with very poor results. At the end of the day, Bucky asks her what would be the proper time to start a dinner date in the twenty-first century, and her anxiety tries to make an appearance again, but she keeps repeating Natasha's words in her head to push it out of her head.

 _It's just a date. He really likes you. You'll be fine._

On Monday morning, Tony is supposed to pick her up at eight, so Pearl wakes up at seven in order to get ready. After a healthy breakfast of leftover party pizza, she puts her hair in the nicest possible bun she can manage without straightening her hair, because that would've required at least an extra hour, applies some minimal make up and brushes her teeth extra carefully. She puts on the outfit she's laid out on the chair the night before and packs a sandwich and a bottle of water into her satchel, trying to be prepared for just about anything. At 8.02, there's a knock on her door.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Tony asks as Pearl opens the door, eyeing her ensemble, which is basically just a simple gray suit. A basic jacket with one button and straight pants paired with a white button-up and very modest black heels. It's not the most flattering thing in the world, but it's not that ugly, and it is the suit she wore while doing her internships at school, because it's what they asked her to wear if she wanted to be taken seriously.

Pearl looks down at her clothes. "What? I tried to look like a lawyer."

Tony steps inside, closing the door behind him. He shakes his head. "No, no, no. Your hair is in a bun, for Christ's sake, that won't do. I need you to look like you. Go change."

He waves his hand in a shooing motion before realizing there's really nowhere for Pearl to shoo to. He looks around her tiny apartment.

"This is the only suit I own. It cost a fortune," Pearl says, in disbelief, getting his attention again. She needs to look like herself? For what?

Tony raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side. "Three hundred dollars is not a fortune."

It was a fortune to her back when she bought it, and even then it was thirty percent off, and she had to eat nothing but rice for a month to pay for it, but it was a necessity, something to further her education and career. Now, she usually never wears it. She didn't even dig it out for her settlement meeting, because that wasn't a real court thing, but this might be.

"How do you know-, wait, of course you know. What am I supposed to wear?" Pearl asks, trying very hard not to remind him that he is wearing a suit. Of course his suit is worth at least as much as twenty of hers, but still.

Tony shrugs. "Whatever you want."

"What if this is it?" she asks, even though it totally isn't.

The suit is hot, and not in a good way, the color is boring and the fabric is bulky and scratchy, and even though the jacket is fitted, it somehow makes her look like she has no waist. The jacket is too long and so are the pants; they make her look like she's got stumpy legs and a long torso, when in reality, it's the other way around.

"I highly doubt that. Go," Tony says and does the shooing motion again.

Pearl digs through her closet for another outfit and goes to the bathroom to change.

"And put on lipstick," Tony calls out through the door as Pearl is in the process of ripping off her pantyhose.

She curses under her breath, mostly at his orders, but a little bit at the pantyhose, too, because they were clearly invented by the devil, at least the super sheer ones that usually rip within the first ten minutes of wearing them, if not straight as they're taken out of the box. She wouldn't have even put them on if she could have located a pair of sheer socks—like pantyhose, but in sock form—because a former teacher of hers told her it was disrespectful to show up in a court room without socks and he made such a big deal about it, that it stuck with her.

Pearl puts on her hastily chosen outfit quickly, because she doesn't know if they're already late or what the deal is; she's still out of the loop on everything. The end result is pretty cute, considering she just grabbed things at random, as she ends up wearing black, high-waisted and figure-hugging pants, that cut off above the ankle, with the white button up tucked into them and black heels, but these ones are more like five inches high and not two and a half like the ones she had on before. She pops open a few of the top buttons on her shirt, pulls out the hair ties and bobby pins holding her bun together, shakes out her hair and coats her lips with a bubblegum pink lipstick before taking one last look in the mirror and deciding that she definitely does not look like anybody's lawyer, but has at least fulfilled Tony's assignment of looking like herself.

She steps out of the bathroom and dumps all of her stuff from the satchel into a burgundy leather tote bag.

"Alright. Now we can go," Tony says, opening the door.

Pearl follows him through it, down the stairs and out of the building into his car. They get in. "Are you going to tell me what to expect?"

"Just follow my lead," Tony says, putting on his sunglasses. Pearl wonders if all superheroes are this mysterious or if it's just a billionaire/playboy/philanthropist thing.

They get to the courthouse, after ignoring just a few speed limits, and rush through it. Pearl is quickly introduced to another one of Tony's lawyers, but it all goes by so fast, she totally spaces on his name. He tells them to get a move on and they proceed to a small room where a bunch of people are already having a heated, yet civilized argument, and they're all wearing nice suits, and there's a judge behind a mahogany desk and a court transcriber to his left, and Pearl thinks she's probably sticking out like a sore thumb but nobody really pays attention to her because they're all busy flipping through their calendars and papers and trying to get their point across to the judge.

At first, Pearl is very, very confused about the situation, but listening to the different people, she begins to differentiate Tony's lawyers from... Whoever the other side is. They're trying to get a court date pushed up while Tony's team is doing everything they can to get it delayed, probably trying to win more time to deal with whatever is going on. Tony's being sued, obviously, or Stark Industries is, Pearl isn't exactly sure yet, but that's about the only thing she's figured out so far. Tony's moved over to a red couch by the wall and appears to be playing a game on his phone, so he's either not worried at all or doing a pretty good job of hiding it, and she's just standing by the door, relieved that so far, she hasn't had to actually do anything.

The judge decides on a date that doesn't seem to please either party too much and they all skedaddle out of the room. Tony shakes hands with some of his lawyers before turning back to see Pearl with her face scrunched up, wondering what just happened.

"So, what exactly is happening?" she asks.

Tony types up things on his phone and brushes off her question without second thought. "It's a frivolous lawsuit, a whole bunch of nonsense, really."

"Tony," she says firmly. He looks up and she stares into his eyes. "What is it?"

"I'm being sued for discrimination. See, Stark Industries recently hired some interns for permanent positions, and we had to let others go, and the ones that didn't make the cut got together and decided it was because of their looks," he explains, ending with an eye roll.

"Was it?" Pearl asks, not really sure what she expects to hear. He's kind of acting like this is just another normal day and this kind of thing happens all the time. Maybe it does.

He shakes his head. "Of course not. I have hundreds of people working for me, I don't know what the interns look like. Human resources handles all that. The ones they hired happened to be attractive women; I had nothing to do with that."

"But they're trying to prove you did," Pearl says. Tony nods. "Do they have a case?"

He leans his head to the right and then to the left and looks to be deep in thought. "No. Maybe."

"Tony!"

"I may have been involved with an intern or two in the past, but that's all behind me. You've met Pepper, I'm sure," he says before tapping on his phone again. "Don't worry, I'll have you work with my legal team. It'll be fun."

Apparently Pearl didn't look too convinced. She sighs. "Right. Fun. Why didn't you just settle? You have the money."

Tony's brow furrows. "Settling would imply I've done something wrong."

"What if you lose?" Pearl asks.

"Then it'll be a sad day for the American justice system."

It's like he's incapable of taking anything seriously. Suddenly, Pearl understands the struggles people sometimes have to go through when dealing with her wise-ass remarks.

"I have one more question," she says.

"Shoot."

Pearl gestures towards her outfit. "Do you _really_ think me dressing like this is going to help your case?"

It would certainly give the jury a lasting first impression, and while what she's wearing could be considered quite conservative in a bar or just out on the street in general, in a courtroom it would be highly inappropriate and not what a jury wants to see, especially not on someone who's supposed to be defending their client from allegations of sexual harassment and discrimination. Of course, Pearl doesn't even know what her role in this will be and most likely she will just end up sitting behind a table as someone more competent does the actual speaking, but that might be even worse, because then she can't even prove to the jury and the judge that she deserves to be there because she's good and not just because she's pretty and wears skimpy clothing.

He shrugs. "Probably not."

"Then why not let me put my hair in a bun and wear something appropriate?" Pearl asks, annoyed.

"It's not who you are," Tony says.

"It's just clothes and hair." Sure, she doesn't feel like herself with those clothes and that librarian hairstyle, but they don't actually change who she is.

"Yeah, and the Iron Man armor is just a pile of metal."

Is he suddenly turning into Mister Miyagi or Yoda or whatever and trying to teach her an important lesson or something?

"That's totally different. There's unspoken rules about this kind of stuff," Pearl says.

He leans on the marble wall. "I don't think you care about that."

Pearl rolls her eyes. This is going nowhere. "It's stupid, but it's the way things are. All your other lawyers are dressed nicely."

"That's because they're fighting tooth and nail to get ahead and to prove themselves," Tony explains.

Pearl scrunches up her nose. Now that she's been filled in, she feels even more out of the loop than before. "And I don't have to do that?"

"This isn't your career. If you fail, your life will return to normal. You have nothing to lose."

What a weird perspective, but it kind of makes sense. If Pearl fails, nothing will change, because she didn't even ask for this in the first place. This must be what rich people feel like all the time. They can just try things and if they don't work out, it's not a big deal, because they've got all this money to fall back on. And now, Pearl has a job to go back to, and she's got money, and she's just being handed an opportunity, that a lot of people would kill for, and she feels bad for the young lawyers on Tony's legal team. This could be a big case for them. They've worked hard to get to this point, probably spending years just dealing with his parking tickets and traffic violations.

"Fine. If I have to be on this case, then you're the boss," she says firmly.

He is her boss, and she doesn't want to start blaming him for treating her differently because she's... What? Natasha's friend? Probably not, but it's the only thing she can think of, since she barely knows Tony and he should, by all accounts, just think of her as the annoying girl, who mocks his choice of coffee tables and won't stop badgering him about when the dishwasher is going to arrive. Eventually it arrived, though, only a week late. But that's it. That's about as far as their relationship extends to.

"You don't have to be. I happen to think you're capable of more than answering my emails and I think you'd enjoy it, but if I'm wrong, you're free to say no," Tony says, coming a bit closer again. He's very convincing, in a way that makes Pearl almost believe that he actually believes in her, but only almost, because he literally has no reason to.

Pearl hesitates and her gaze sweeps the floor. He's giving her an out. She can no longer pretend to be forced to do this and she's got nothing to lose. Nothing to be scared of. She looks him in the eyes. "When do we start?"

"Wednesday. I'll have someone send you all the details," Tony says with a smile and begins walking down the corridor. He motions for Pearl to follow. "I'm glad to have you on board, kid."

"You might regret it," Pearl says.

Tony grabs the wooden handle of the big front door, pushing it open. "What's life without a little regret?"

It's a rhetorical question, sure, but Pearl can't help but answer. "I don't know. Simple?"

"Who wants that?" Tony asks, walking out onto the steps leading up to the doors.

They walk down the stairs and a very familiar looking yellow Vespa, that's parked out front, catches Pearl's attention. They're not all that common, especially ones that have a plastic shopping basket tied to the back like this particular one. "Wait, that looks like my-"

Tony interrupts before she finishes stating the obvious. "I took the liberty of having it brought here."

She looks over to him and he's just standing, looking like his usual smug self with his hands in his pockets. "But the keys are on-"

She doesn't get to finish this sentence either, because the keys, that are supposed to be on her kitchen counter back at home, suddenly come flying towards her. She catches them.

Tony smirks. "Gotta run. See you later, kid. Give 'em hell."

Pearl stands there, next to her Vespa, for a good five minutes, trying to figure out if that was possibly the coolest thing ever and she's leaning towards yes. He's got people to do this kind of stuff. He can just tell someone to drive her Vespa here and they'll do it, no questions asked, because they're paid to. She wonders how much someone like that would cost. Probably way too much, and she wouldn't even have much of a use for someone like that, but at least she'd never do her own laundry again.

While she's pondering and digging out her helmet from under the seat, her phone rings. Pearl rummages through her bag to find her phone to see Sam's name and face on the screen. "Hey, Sam. What's up?"

"Hey. Don't come to work today," Sam says.

Pearl is taken aback by his weird request. It's Monday, she's basically already at work and she can't just not go, right? "What?"

"He doesn't want you to come," Sam explains.

"Who? Bucky?" Pearl asks, confused.

"Yeah. He says it won't be a proper date if you're here today." His tone is weirdly mocking, but it fits.

"What? That's stupid," Pearl says, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she holds her helmet in one hand and closes the seat with the other.

"Tell him that. He wants to pick you up at your house and whatever, I don't know, I stopped listening at that point."

His reasoning is actually very romantic and old-timey. She kind of gets it now. "Why couldn't he tell me that himself?"

Sam sighs loudly. "Because we don't have rotary phones."

"Right."

Bucky's aversion towards modern technology can sometimes be a bit of an annoyance. She makes a mental note to teach him how to use a cellphone, no matter how much he might resist it.

"So, I guess you're sleeping with him, after all?" Sam asks.

Sam is either seriously obsessed with this or just trying to get even with her. Either way, it's annoying. "I'm hanging up now."

On the way home, Pearl decides to stop by Barney's to pick up something to wear for her date. It's been a very long time since she's bought a new outfit just for a man, but this feels like an occasion that calls for it. With the help of a young sales girl, she chooses a gorgeous crimson red dress. It's strapless, short and unforgivably tight, making it perfect for a first date, because it'll keep her from eating too much and looking like a pig. The girl suggests a pair of black Louboutins to go with the dress, and Pearl thinks she'll just try them on, since they can't be that much better than her other shoes, and twenty minutes later, finds herself at the checkout counter with the dress, shoes, a black clutch bag and a simple silver necklace, wondering how it all happened.

In an effort to not give herself a chance to freak out, Pearl spends the rest of the day cleaning her apartment from top to bottom. She organizes her closet, finding some forgotten pieces of clothing while she's at it, washes the windows and even scrubs the area behind the stove. After all the cleaning, she takes a shower, blow-dries her hair and does her makeup, complete with red lipstick and winged eyeliner, before putting on her new, fabulous outfit. She's in the middle of putting on shoes, when there's a knock at the door. Pearl takes a deep breath, puts on the other shoe and calmly walks to open it.

Obviously, it's Bucky, and he's looking absolutely amazing in a pair of navy blue slacks and a white dress shirt, that fits him like a glove. He looks sort of stunned to see her, which is exactly what she was going for, and his eyes are exploring every inch of her being. She puts a hand on her hip and smiles. "Hi."

He stares at her before shaking it off and looking deep into her eyes. "You look really beautiful."

"Not too vulgar?" Pearl asks, jokingly, trying to not get overly excited about the sexy eyes he was just giving her.

Bucky shakes his head. "Never."

Pearl feels her cheeks flushing, which doesn't usually happen, and rubs on her shoulder. "Well, thank you, Bucky. You look very handsome."

She grabs her jacket and bag and they walk down the stairs and out of the building. Sam is waiting across the street by the car.

"Don't mind me, I'm just chaperoning," he says, opening the door for Pearl. He does his best trying to hide the fact that he's clearly not too happy to be here, but fails, and Pearl just wants to tell him she agrees. Bucky should be able to move around freely, but until Steve gives his OK, that won't happen. At least not again.

Sam drives them to a restaurant Pearl's never heard of: a beautiful little place with white tablecloths over little round tables and red velvet curtains around the windows and dark cherry wood paneling on the walls. The lighting is dim and romantic with just a few chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and there's a candle at every table. There's a small dance floor in the corner and an even smaller stage with a live band playing jazz.

The waiter guides the two of them to a table Bucky has apparently reserved, and brings them a bottle of red wine he's apparently requested earlier, while Sam takes a seat in the bar.

While reading through the menu, Pearl notices Bucky's eyes occasionally wandering off the page and landing on her chest, and face, but mostly her chest, and it's not like she's got huge tits or anything, but they're alright, and the dress makes them look even better. Pearl is definitely going back to Barney's and finding that sales girl and buying everything she recommends.

"See something you like?" she asks and takes a sip of her wine.

He looks up, kind of frazzled. "Huh?"

"On the menu?" The corner of Pearl's mouth tugs up and she can't help it, when Bucky's cheeks turn rosy.

To her surprise, he smirks. "Sure. I see something better off the menu, though."

If she had been drinking wine right then, she would've choked on it. She raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

He's being very forward and she's loving it. Normally, she would be put off by guys like this, guys, that are too cocky, but this is different, because she knows him and he's not like those guys. He's broken and tortured and he's totally allowed to stare at her boobs as much as he wants, because she knows he's not doing the same thing with a dozen other girls and because he still blushes when he's caught doing it. And he's not being disgusting, he's just... Well, she doesn't know what he's being, because sweet sounds like the wrong word to use, but it's definitely working for her.

The waiter takes their order. Pearl orders pasta, though she'll likely regret it when her dress starts to give out, and Bucky decides on a steak. Pearl sips on her wine and decides to ask the question she's been wanting to ask for a while now, and it's not about if he really likes her, because she's kind of beginning to believe that, but something she's been wondering since day one.

She puts down her glass. "Can I ask you, why did you look at me? When I first saw you."

"Honestly? I thought I was hallucinating," Bucky says.

What? Pearl didn't really even know what to expect, but that was definitely more unexpected than she expected it to be. Or something.

He sees her confused face and explains. "Something very bright appeared in my window. I thought it might be an angel, but it was just your hair."

Well, that makes some sense. He had been without food and sleep for a while at that point. He must've been very disappointed when the thing in his window turned out not to be an angel.

"But why did you keep looking? I mean, you followed me with your eyes," Pearl asks, tracing her finger around the edge of the table.

"Because of the way you looked at me. It was just... I was so used to seeing pity or fear. Or anger," Bucky says, not breaking eye contact. "But you didn't look like that."

Pearl smiles.

"And then you did that," Bucky says. "I looked like a mental patient and you smiled at me."

"Well, it's a bad habit," Pearl says, right as the waiter brings over their food. Her plate of pasta looks delicious and the portion is absolutely ridiculously huge.

"And then, when you learned who I was, you came in and started talking about yourself," Bucky says, almost laughing, as he cuts up into his food.

Pearl shrugs and smiles widely. "That's another bad habit."

"But you never told me about your family," he says.

"I didn't?"

She vaguely remembers telling him at least something.

He shakes his head. "Just bits and pieces."

Right, if he wants the whole story, then that's what he will get, or at least a quick summary. Pearl takes a large gulp of wine before beginning her story.

"Well, there's mom and dad, obviously. Mary and Frank. They were high school sweethearts, got married pretty young and started a family right away."

Mom was barely out of high school when they married. As a teen, Pearl thought maybe it was a shotgun wedding, but she did the math and it wasn't. Patrick was born during their first year of marriage, though, so they didn't exactly waste any time.

"Dad went to law school and eventually had his own firm, and mom worked from home as a seamstress while raising us kids."

A while back, dad quit practicing law and handed his company over to Patrick, who then moved his whole family to Ohio. It's the same firm Pearl was supposed to go work for.

"Patrick's the oldest, he's like thirty-seven, I think. He's a lawyer, too. He's got a wife and two kids. They're super cute."

It's really no surprise that they made beautiful children. Patrick's wife, Nina, is a tall, leggy brunette, who is apparently also a saint, because she agreed to move from beautiful, lively San Francisco to Gates Mills, Ohio and didn't even complain.

"Olivia is ten and Jack is eight and they think I'm awesome, because I live in New York. That's the ultimate cool factor for them."

Pearl loves all her nieces and nephews, but Olivia was the first one, so she's special, and Jack is probably going to explode when he finds out Pearl knows Captain America and Iron Man. They are both really adorable with their dark hair and dark eyes, and Nina dresses them so well, that sometimes they look like they jumped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog.

"Then there's Penelope. She's actually pregnant with her third child right now. Three kids in four years, can you imagine?"

Pearl shakes her head, making Bucky smile. Three kids in four years is crazy. Penny is five years older than Pearl and she's on the same boat as their mom regarding the whole issue of Pearl getting married and starting a family, but she's usually less vocal about it, which Pearl appreciates. Penny's kids, Grace and Zachary (and fetus), are also very dear to Pearl's heart, but they're not as fun as Jack and Olivia, because they're still very small and can barely speak, let alone be able to have a conversation. And they're messy.

"Her husband manages the hardware store in my hometown. He's a nice enough guy, I guess. Republican. I don't really know him that well."

She scrunches up her nose. She's always gotten the vibe that he just doesn't like her. It could be because Pearl tried to get Penny to leave the state and go experience something other than small town life while she was already dating Adam, but it really wasn't an attack against him, and Penny never left, so there's really no point for him to be mad.

"And Philip's the youngest. We call him Pip. Great kid. So smart. I feel so bad for not visiting. I really need to go see him."

While Pat and Penny have their father's dark hair and strong features, Pearl and Pip got everything from their mom, including her petite structure, except Pip grew to be way taller than Pearl.

"Mom was very strict and wanted us to go to Catholic school, so we did, and dad's the one I always told when I messed up."

Pearl grabs her glass and drinks. Bucky's mouth forms a smile.

"You make if sound as though you messed up a lot," he says.

"Well, not a lot," Pearl says. First, he would have to define 'a lot' for her to accurately give an answer.

Pearl realizes that while she's basically been monologuing for who knows how long, Bucky's almost finished with his meal and she's barely touched hers, but on the other hand, he's had plenty of opportunities to speak up.

"I'm sorry, I've been blabbing on and on again," she says before chomping down some of her pasta before it all goes cold. It's so delicious, she's definitely taking the rest to go. Maybe Bucky was just enjoying his steak so much he didn't want to waste time speaking. It's probably been seventy years since he's had a meal like this.

"It's fine. I like listening to you," he says, making Pearl blush a little.

Bucky looks out to the empty dance floor behind him before getting up from his seat and offering Pearl his hand. "Shall we dance?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," she says, just a little bit surprised by this new development and takes it. The last time she danced with someone was in Italy and that was just a work thing.

He leads her onto the dance floor, and she notices the live band has been joined by a woman standing behind a microphone stand. She's got on a gorgeous gold dress, that looks lovely against her caramel skin tone. Bucky guides Pearl to place her hand on his broad shoulder and intertwines the fingers of her other hand with his metal ones. His hand is cold, like always, but his touch is gentle. The woman starts singing Sinatra's "Fly Me to the Moon" in a beautiful, husky voice, that fills the whole room.

Bucky's right hand is on her back and he uses it to pull her in even closer, and they sway slowly to the tune of the music that surrounds them, their bodies so close to one another, yet so far away.

"This is nice," Bucky says, looking down, and his eyes meet hers, and she finds herself drifting even closer, wanting to kiss him, but ultimately deciding against it, because they're dancing and she doesn't want anything to interfere with that.

"It is," Pearl says, biting on her lower lip.

Bucky grins. "I almost feel like a normal person."

Pearl lets out a small chuckle and continues looking into his eyes. His look is soft, gentle and absolutely weird, like nothing she's ever experienced before, and at the same time, so captivating she can't bring herself to look away even though it's making her breathing become shallow. There's a bunch of people on the dance floor now, but she doesn't even notice, because it feels like it's just her and Bucky and the music. She doesn't care for clichés, but this is one of those moments where the whole world fades away, and she's not sure what will happen in the future, but right at this moment, she's happy. Absolutely terrified, but happy.

Suddenly, Bucky's expression hardens and his eyes start scanning the room. His whole body feels tense, as he leans in closer to whisper in her ear.

"Do you see that man over there? In the corner?" he asks.

Pearl looks over her shoulder. There is indeed a tall, dark man standing in the corner of the restaurant. Pearl turns back. "Yeah. Who is he?"

"HYDRA," he says, his eyes still darting across the restaurant.

"Seriously?" Pearl asks, looking over again, but the man has disappeared. The last thing, like the absolute last thing she expected on her date was HYDRA showing up.

"Let's go. Now." Bucky stops dancing and motions for them to move, but Pearl is frozen in her place, still trying to process the information. His eyes drill through hers and his eyebrows raise up with confusion.

"What? We can't just leave," she says in disbelief and looks over to the bar. Sam's not there for whatever reason. She shakes her head. "Sam isn't even here."

"We have to." Bucky grabs her hand and starts walking across the restaurant, dragging her behind as he navigates around the tables, knocking over a few glasses of water. He looks back. "He'll find us later."

"Bucky, stop!" Pearl says, trying to wiggle her hand free. The whole absurdity of the situation is hitting her. "We can't just-"

They haven't even paid. Her pasta is still on the plate, waiting to be boxed up and taken home. It might not even be HYDRA. There are so many criminal organizations in New York, that it could just be a thug from any one of those. It could be anybody, really, but Bucky has decided it's HYDRA and he's so determined to leave, she can't possibly stop him, the only thing she can do is keep looking around to see if Sam would appear.

They reach a door.

"That's a fire exit, we shouldn't-" Pearl tries to reason, but Bucky has already opened it and pulls her through, out onto an unlit back alley. She manages to rip her hand from his grip, and he doesn't try to grab it again. Instead, he turns around and even though it's very dark, the moonlight allows Pearl to see the confusion on his face as he surveys the frightened expression on hers.

He runs his hand across her cheek and looks like he wants to speak, but he doesn't have a chance, when a gravelly voice behind him says something first in what sounds like Russian, but Pearl has never studied Russian, so she has no idea what he's saying. Bucky turns around, revealing to Pearl the guy from the restaurant, standing there, leaning against a brick wall with his hands in his pockets, looking like a smug son of a bitch with a smile that reaches from ear to ear. Pearl is never again questioning Bucky's ability to identify a HYDRA agent. She takes a step back as the man starts walking closer, his smile not fading. Bucky steps in front of her, as Pearl tries the handle on the door, but apparently it only opens from the inside, because why in the hell would a door open from both sides anyway? They exchange a quick look, her wide eyes meeting his determined ones.

"Run," Bucky says, and at this point, she's got no reason to resist.

Pearl runs down the alley as fast as she possibly can, as Louboutins are definitely not the best running shoes. She hears the sound of a fight going on behind her and looks over her shoulder to see Bucky smashing the man's face against the very wall he was leaning on just seconds ago, and it's gruesome, yet somehow satisfying. She slows down, and a weird thought crosses her mind. Is HYDRA really stupid enough to think that one guy would be enough to get back the Winter Soldier? If they made him, they should really know what he's capable of.

With a turn of her head, a pull of a trigger, and a bullet tearing its way through her flesh, her question gets an answer. She hears screams, possibly her own, and as the taste of blood enters her mouth, her legs give out and somebody's arms wrap around her, the only thing she can think of, is how this is _definitely_ going straight to the top of her list of bad things men do.


	13. Bucky Is A Good Guy

****CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
**** ** **BUCKY IS A GOOD GUY****

* * *

There are many things about Pearl Palmer that both confuse and excite Bucky Barnes. She wears shoes, that look extremely painful and could probably double as weapons if need be, while at the same time giving him sinful thoughts.

 _"Female, 27, GSW to the chest. She lost conciousness on the way."_

Perfume, that radiates off her skin and into his nose while they dance, even though she smells just fine without it.

 _"Page Doctor Reed, stat!"_

Red lipstick, that seems to take a lot of effort to apply and keep neat and he wants smeared all over his face.

 _"OR five is prepped and ready."_

And a dress he's not sure isn't cutting off her circulation, that makes him forget his own name.

 _"Sir, I need you to let go of her hand."_

But he doesn't care about the dress, the shoes, the perfume or the lipstick. He doesn't need them. He needs _her_.

"Her hand, sir."

Bucky doesn't even realize he's been holding on, until the nurse beside him removes his hand from Pearl's. It shakes as he watches the people in white coats wheel her off through a set of swinging doors. He needs her. They can't take her.

She was shot. He was trying to do the right thing by taking her on a date, trying to be the gentleman he was taught to be. Trying to give her what she deserves and treat her with respect. And she ends up shot. Pearl says she doesn't believe in fate, and Bucky doesn't either, but something must be playing a cruel joke on him, because taking her away, right now, right at the moment when everything seemed to be going well, must be the work of a higher power.

"They're taking her into surgery. Are you her husband?"

Bucky stares at the nurse standing beside him. She's still holding onto his arm and looking at him with a compassionate smile. Bucky shakes his head. He's not her husband, but he could've been. Maybe. He hasn't given it much thought until now.

"Alright, sir, why don't you go sit down and somebody will come by when there's an update."

The nurse guides Bucky to an empty seating area. He sits, conflicted by a rush of emotions. Regret. Anger. Fear. A million thoughts flying around in his head. He's responsible for this. Somebody did this to her, because he made it possible. She could die. He'll never forgive himself if she dies. _She can't die._

He sees Steve and Natasha rushing through the door. He doesn't know how to explain what happened. Natasha goes to talk with the nurse, and Steve comes over.

He sits next to Bucky. "Sam called us. Where is Pearl?"

Bucky doesn't want to say it. He can't bare to think about it. The only thing keeping him together right now is the idea of revenge. It won't save her, he knows that, but it needs to be done.

HYDRA sent two agents to get Bucky, and he knows their objective. Acquire the target, kill all witnesses. Pearl doesn't deserve to die like that. As an afterthought, an innocent bystander. A victim of circumstances. She doesn't deserve to die at all.

"I need to find that man," Bucky says, grinding his teeth. "I'll kill him."

Steve sighs, looking at his friend. "Bucky, you're not going anywhere. Let's wait and see what the doctors say."

Bucky turns to face Steve, staring at his concerned face. "She's going to die."

"She's not going to die," Steve says, wrinkles appearing on his forehead.

Bucky shakes his head. "You didn't see it. I need to find him, now."

Steve wasn't there. That's why he can afford to be optimistic, but Bucky's a realist. He looks down at his white shirt, that's completely drenched in blood. Pearl's blood, mostly. Blood, that came gushing from the wound on her chest as he tried to hold pressure on it. Blood, that she coughed up, and he tried to wipe away from her gorgeous face. Her blood is literally on his hands. Just thinking about it makes him sick.

"Sam is on it," Steve says.

Bucky snaps out of thought. "What?"

Steve puts his hand over Bucky's shoulder. "Sam is trying to find them."

Sam. Sam was there. He knocked out the man that shot Pearl. He called the ambulance. He helped, a lot. But he won't find them.

Natasha fills out forms while the nurse makes phone calls, and Bucky knows she's calling Pearl's family. The people she was just talking about half an hour ago. They're going to come, and he'll have to explain to them what happened. And they'll hate him, with good reason.

"So, you and Pearl?" Steve asks, trying to sound light but failing.

Bucky doesn't feel like responding.

"I was gone for two days and this happens," Steve continues. "It's that old Bucky Barnes charm, I guess."

Steve is trying to cheer him up. It's annoying. Bucky doesn't want to talk about the subject of him and Pearl. He doesn't want to tell Steve she's unlike any woman he's ever met before. She's independent and stubborn, yet caring and compassionate. Fearless, incredible. Beautiful, too. The kind of woman he didn't even know he wanted until she walked into his life. Was thrown into his life, to be precise. He doesn't want to talk about it, because just thinking about it is too much. He'll never get to tell her how he feels.

He might never even get to figure out just how he feels. He doesn't know if it's meant to be or if it will last. Sometimes, he thinks back to the girls he dated before the war, before HYDRA, before the Winter Soldier, and they were all nice girls, but they would run away screaming from the person he is today. Pearl, on the other hand, stuck with him and helped him in her own unconventional methods, like the first time she made him meditate, she found a how-to video on her phone and followed the instructions, and she might be crazy for not walking out after Bucky bruised her jaw, but she's the kind of crazy he needs.

The surgery takes hours. Natasha talks to the cops that were called and says that the hospital is required to report all gunshots. She convinces them to come back later. Bucky finds small relief in not having to answer their questions right now.

They don't get an update until Natasha demands the nurse find out what's happening. One of Pearl's surgeons comes by, tells them the situation is very touch and go and leaves. The lack of information is infuriating, but Natasha says it's good that they're still working. It means there's hope.

"You have to stay positive," Steve says, making Bucky want to hit him, because he knows Steve's right.

Pearl probably wouldn't tell him to stay positive, but she would remind him of the marvels of modern medicine and tell him some crazy story about people surviving worse odds, that she would've seen on television.

"I'm not dead yet, so don't act like I am," she would say, and it would make perfect sense, and Bucky's really trying not to sink into a dark pit of negativity, but his theory of the universe playing a cruel joke on him keeps popping up in his head, no matter how hard he tries not to give up.

After hours of painful uncertainty, Pearl is wheeled out of surgery and into a recovery room, where Bucky, Natasha and Steve are allowed to see her. They go inside, and her bed is surrounded by monitors with curtains and other patients on both sides. The doctor explains that there's a tube going into her chest and a machine helping her breathe. The tubes and wires and the machines and monitors make Bucky uncomfortable.

Lying in bed, she looks tiny. He's never even realized how dainty she actually is. She's pale. Fragile.

Alive.

The doctor, the main surgeon flips through her chart. "The bullet shattered one of her ribs, and the damage to her left lung was extensive, but she pulled through the surgery and we are hoping for a full recovery."

Bucky stares at Pearl. She looks peaceful, like she's just sleeping. The doctors words keep repeating in his head. Full recovery. He won't let himself get comfortable with that idea. He needs more. He needs for her to wake up. Even if she wants nothing to do with him in the future, she needs to wake up.

"When will she wake up?" Natasha asks, as if she's reading his mind.

"It's hard to tell. The shooting and the surgery put a lot of stress on her body," the surgeon says.

Bucky caresses Pearl's cheek with the back of his hand. He doesn't know if he should be worried about them not knowing when she would wake up. Maybe they don't know, if she will. After all, they're hoping for a full recovery. Hoping, not optimistic, but at least it's probably better than touch and go.

"Thank you, Doctor," Natasha says. The surgeon hangs up Pearl's chart at the end of her bed and leaves the room.

Bucky hears Sam's voice coming from outside the door and notices Steve has left the room. He hears Steve replying to Sam's questions about Pearl, and he feels his whole body tensing up. He rushes out of the room, ignoring Natasha as she tries to stop him.

"Did you find him?" Bucky asks, almost shouting the words.

Sam shakes his head. "I'm sorry, man."

He knew Sam wouldn't find them. He's not even sure if he could do it, but he has to try. There's no way he's letting that man get away with this. It's the least he can do, even though it won't make things right. It won't make what happened not be his fault. Bucky heads straight for the door, determined to get his revenge.

"Bucky!" Steve calls out, making Bucky stop dead in his tracks. He doesn't turn around. He curls his fingers into a fist.

"You can't leave," Steve says. "You need to be here when she wakes up."

He didn't stop to think about that. If she wakes up, she might be mad at him for everything, and him not being there probably wouldn't help. So, he waits and sits by her bed, holding her hand, and as the hours pass by, just looking at her becomes painful. Every minute feels like twenty and every second adds to his guilt.

Two nurses come in and start pulling out wires from the monitors and lifting up the sides of Pearl's bed.

"What's happening?" Bucky asks, a variety of horrible scenarios flashing through his head.

One of the nurses gives him a smile. "We're moving her to a private room."

Bucky walks out to follow as they wheel her bed down the hall. Outside, he runs into Stark. He acknowledges Bucky with a nod before turning to the nurse at the desk. "Now, where can I find billing?"

The new room is much nicer than the last. It has a television and more chairs and an adjacent bathroom, too. Bucky opens up the TV and flips through the channels to find the Home Shopping Network, because he knows Pearl loves to watch it. Somewhere between car wax and vacuum cleaners, Bucky falls asleep, holding onto Pearl's hand, resting his head on her lap. He's woken up by Steve tapping on his shoulder, saying he should probably come out to the hallway.

Bucky looks at the clock on the wall, which says it's a little past four in the morning, before groggily following Steve. Outside, he is met by the sight of three people having awkward small talk with Sam. Two men, an older, tall grey-haired man and a younger one, a spitting image of the first, but with dark brown hair, and a heavily pregnant woman. Pearl's family. They turn to look at Bucky, and he quickly realizes he's still wearing the same bloody shirt.

Natasha comes rushing down the hallway, carrying four coffees. She shoves them to Steve and quickly extends out her hand to greet Pearl's father.

"Mister Palmer, hi. We've met before," she says and gives a faint smile towards Patrick and Penelope.

"Natasha," Frank replies, his face void of emotion. "My wife wasn't well enough to travel."

Natasha nods sympathetically. She doesn't get a chance to say anything before Bucky blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Did Philip stay home with her?" he asks.

The whole family turns to look at him again. "What?"

They say it collectively, probably wondering who the hell he's supposed to be. They look angry, probably because of the blood, and confused, again, probably because of the blood.

"Pearl's younger brother? I got the impression he still lives at home? She was just talking about visiting him," Bucky explains. She was just talking about it, literally hours ago. It's why the thought popped up in his head in the first place.

Frank's mouth drops open slightly and his brow furrows. Penelope's eyes widen. Patrick shakes his head.

"Dude, Pip died four years ago," Patrick says with a scrunched up face.

What? What the hell is he talking about?

Natasha notices the look of shock on Bucky's face and gestures towards Pearl's open door. "She's just through there. Go on in."

The family starts moving towards it while giving Bucky looks of disbelief, and he just wants to tell them he had no idea as he stands there, not knowing what to think. Pearl didn't tell him. He asked about her family, and that would've been the perfect opportunity to say something or fail to mention him, but that's not what she did. He sits down onto a bench and buries his face into his hands. Natasha takes the seat opposite him, placing her elbows on her knees and leaning forward. Steve taps on Bucky's hand with a coffee cup, which he accepts, before leaving the waiting area with Sam.

Bucky takes a deep breath, then looks at the woman opposite him. "Did you know?"

"I drove her to the funeral," Natasha says, tilting her head to the right.

Now it's even more confusing. If it was a secret from everybody, he might sort of understand, but she specifically chose not to tell him.

"How did he die?" Bucky asks.

"Hit and run," Natasha says. "It's why she doesn't drive."

Now even that makes sense. It's hard to run over somebody with a scooter. Bucky sighs. It must've been awful to try and deal with something so unexpected, and from what he's gathered, Philip was just a kid. He gets up and walks over to the window of Pearl's room. He sees her family gathered around her bed, but they don't notice him.

"She talks about him, as if he's still alive," Bucky says, leaning up against the wall, still not exactly understanding the situation.

Natasha nods. "Yeah. She does do that."

Bucky sips on his coffee silently.

"Pearl's not crazy, if that's what you think. She knows he's dead," Natasha says to break the silence. "She's just... I don't know. She doesn't really talk about it."

Bucky doesn't know what to say. He turns his head to see Pearl again. Natasha gets up and joins him.

"She's got a very unique outlook on life," Natasha says. "It's why I thought she'd be good for you."

She has been, there's no denying it, but she did say dating might not be the best idea, and while this probably isn't what she meant by that, maybe it's a sign. He stares at her, hoping she'll open her eyes, but she doesn't.

Bucky sighs. "I should walk away, right? Keep her safe?"

Natasha turns to face him. She looks annoyed. "That's the absolute worst thing you could do."

"What? Why?" Bucky asks. He's clearly not safe to be around and he can't bare the thought of something like this happening again. With Hydra, nothing is out of the question and even if Pearl wasn't on their radar before, she might be now.

"Because she's not usually scared of anything, but she thinks you'll break her heart," Natasha says, looking straight into Bucky's eyes. She sounds serious, yet concerned. "And if you walk out on her now, you'll prove her right. And I really hate it when she's right."

The thought of being apart from Pearl is not a pleasant one, but it would be sensible and much preferred over her dying at the hands of Hydra. Surely she would understand.

"I told her you're a good guy, Bucky. Don't prove me wrong," Natasha says, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what I'm trying to do," Bucky says. The good guy is the one that saves the girl while the bad guy leads her straight to her demise.

Natasha shakes her head. "Yeah, but she's not going to see it as you trying to keep her from dying."

"Why not?"

Natasha's face is annoyed again. "Because she thinks all men are assholes and she'll think you're a jerk for leaving her as she lies in a hospital bed with a freaking collapsed lung."

"You make a good point."

It's an excellent point, actually. He could try explaining to Pearl, that it's for her own good and better for the both of them, but it would be a lie, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself, because it sounds so selfish, wanting to keep her and taking a huge risk to do so, when the sensible thing would be to walk away. That's what a good guy would do, and Bucky is determined to be a good guy, but if leaving her makes him a jerk in her eyes, even if his motivation is to do the right thing, then he's not a good guy at all.

He shakes off the thought, determined to come back to it when she wakes up and decides how she feels. He can only hope she'll back out, even though just the thought makes his heart twinge, because then he wouldn't have to choose between being a selfish good guy or a jerk with the best intentions.

"Of course. I'm always right," Natasha says with half a smile.

"How are you so calm about all this?" Bucky asks. Natasha has been making phone calls, getting coffee, filling out paperwork and talking to the doctors and nurses like this is just an everyday occurrence.

"She's not going to die. If she managed to talk her way out of a kidnapping, one bullet is not going to kill her," Natasha says casually.

Kidnapping? What?

"Wait, what?" Bucky asks.

"She didn't tell you that story?" Natasha asks. Bucky shakes his head. "Oh, it's great. You know she lived in Italy?"

Bucky nods.

"Well, she met this guy over there and it turned out he was actually from Brooklyn. So, they get back to the States and they have their little fling and everything is going fine, until she realizes he's kind of a big deal in the Italian Mafia," Natasha begins.

"What?"

Natasha smiles widely. "It gets better. Around that same time, he realizes she's CIA and has her taken hostage, because he's stupid and doesn't realize that the CIA doesn't deal with guys like him. Pearl explains this to him, and then he decides to kill her for knowing too much."

"What happened?" Bucky asks.

"She convinced him that she wanted to marry him and help him become the next Al Capone," Natasha says and rolls her eyes while letting out a little laugh.

Bucky can't help but glance back at Pearl again, imagine her in that situation and be in such a state of wonder that he can't muster anything beyond an exhale that slightly resembles a laugh. He turns back to Natasha, who simply shrugs.

"It's a much better story when she tells it."

"I can't imagine it getting much better than that," Bucky says. At this point, nothing about Pearl should surprise him, but it keeps happening anyway.

"Well, you haven't seen her drunk off her ass, trying to imitate an Italian mobster," Natasha says before taking a sip of her coffee, and Bucky thinks that is something he would love to see. The mere thought of it brings a smile to his face.

Pearl's family comes out, and her father seems to want to talk to Natasha. She asks for them to sit down with her and silently motions for Bucky to leave before they pay any attention to him. He slips into her room and sits by her bed after hiding the Bible that's somehow appeared on her side table. She once mentioned having read the whole thing twice and thinking that it's a good story, but a horrible thing to live your life by. She said something about once doing a book report on it, too, and getting a failing grade for her blasphemous writing.

A little later, the doctor comes by with a nurse to check on her and they remove her from the ventilator, saying she should be able to breathe on her own. Luckily, she can. As the doctor is leaving, Pearl begins to slowly open her eyes and groans softly. Bucky calls out to Natasha, who brings everybody into the room.

Bucky holds onto her tiny, fragile hand as Pearl looks at everything around her, her eyes wider than he's ever seen them. She opens her mouth a little, but doesn't seem to find the words.

"You're at the hospital. You were shot. Do you remember?" the doctor asks.

Pearl blinks slowly and repeatedly. She clears her throat. "Not really, but I'm sure it was a very pleasant experience."

There's a small murmur of laughter from the huge crowd of people gathered in the small room.

Pearl's lovely blue eyes move from person to person before landing on Bucky. She whispers, "Everybody's here. Am I dying?"

"No," he says quietly and shakes his head. The corner of her mouth turns upwards. He smiles. For a split second, there's nobody else in the room.

"Okay, there's way too many people here. Everybody that's not immediate family, needs to leave," the nurse calls out, snapping them out of their moment. Natasha tugs on Bucky's sleeve, and he lets go of Pearl's hand, waving a small goodbye as he leaves.

He feels what Pearl would probably call 'the warm and fuzzies' as he sits down in the waiting area again.

She woke up.


	14. What If, But If

****CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
WHAT IF, BUT IF****

* * *

Pearl doesn't know exactly how she ended up in a hospital bed with a tube in her chest and what seems to be a very powerful cocktail of pain killers dripping into her veins, but the experience does have its upsides.

Firstly, she's the absolute center of attention. Everybody has come to see her, and that means literally everybody from Bucky to the unborn child in her sisters womb, even if the stupid nurse makes half of them leave, and she's left with just the people that share her blood.

Secondly, the doctor that's explaining her situation looks sort of like George Clooney, and back in college, Pearl used to spend her mornings watching ER re-runs before class and on the show, George was a good doctor, which basically means fake George can probably be trusted, too. It makes perfect sense, at least in her drugged up state of mind.

Thirdly, and most importantly, Penelope looks like a whale, which makes Pearl very happy, though she wonders how Penny was even allowed to fly, because she seriously looks like she'll explode at any minute. It's a good thing they're in a hospital. Pearl giggles at the image and realizes she hasn't been listening to whatever fake George has been saying. This makes her giggle even more.

The doctor and nurse leave, and Pearl wants to beg them to stay and not leave her alone with her family, one third of which may or may not explode, but she doesn't really know how to say that without sounding really offensive.

"How are you, sweetie?" Pearl's dad asks, taking a step forward and stroking Pearl's hand.

"I don't know. I wasn't listening to the doctor," Pearl says, confused, then looks at Patrick and Penny. "Please tell me one of you listened."

They roll their eyes and laugh. Pearl doesn't understand what's funny about nobody knowing what the hell is happening.

"She seems to be herself," Patrick says. They all look at her with a pitiful, compassionate look, that's really annoying and not at all the type of attention she enjoys. As they keep staring at her like she's about to die, Pearl feels herself falling asleep and tries to fight it, but since she's already lying in bed, it proves to be a losing fight.

Waking up, she sees the arm chair next to her has been folded out into a bed. On it, Bucky is lying on his side, with his eyes open.

"Hey," he says as she opens her eyes and sees him.

"What time is it?" Pearl asks, trying to sit up, but he won't let her, instead shoving another pillow behind her head to raise it up a little. She doesn't know why knowing the time is even important right now, when she's not even sure what day it is.

"It's noon," Bucky says, and walks over to the other side of her bed to sit closer to her. He's got a weird look on his face, like he's got something to say but he's afraid to. Like she'll suddenly almost die again or something.

"What happened, Bucky?" Pearl asks, looking straight into his eyes, thinking it's probably something about the shooting.

His face becomes even weirder as he clears his throat and looks around the room. His eyes keep wandering as he talks. "How much do you remember?"

"We danced. I wanted to kiss you, but I was trying to be a lady so I didn't." Pearl thinks for a bit. "And then... We left. Why did we leave?"

She remembers how it felt when the bullet ripped through her lung, but everything else is a blur.

Bucky takes a deep breath. "HYDRA found me."

Of course. As if Pearl didn't have enough troubles, now she has to actually worry about HYDRA? They were supposed to be dead or in prison.

Bucky explains the situation, telling her he dragged her outside after spotting the HYDRA agent and how that all went to hell and how there were two of them and how he caught her before she fell to the ground, at which point Sam came out, knocked out the shooter and called for an ambulance. The shooter got away, which seems to make Bucky grip tightly onto the arms of the chair he's sitting on.

"All of this is my fault. I got you shot," Bucky says, still avoiding eye contact. He looks adorable, really.

Pearl shrugs it off. "Oh, come on. It's New York. I was bound to get shot sooner or later."

Bucky doesn't look amused as he shakes his head and lets out a deep sigh. "This is serious."

"What do you want me to say? I don't blame you," Pearl says.

Sure, if she could've chosen, she would've preferred not to get shot or to get shot somewhere other than her chest, which just happens to house a lot of major organs and apparently, according to fake George, whose words somehow did stick despite the major painkillers, getting shot in the lung could've gone very wrong very fast. But it's not Bucky's fault. Technically, yes, maybe, but not really. She gets it, probably. If someone had her locked up for decades and after getting out, she spotted them somewhere, it's not like she'd stick around to wait and see what might happen.

Bucky's eyes narrow. "You should. I dragged you out into that alley. If we'd stayed inside-"

"Yeah, if," Pearl snaps. She's not appreciating his tone, because it's almost condescending. Like she doesn't understand the severity of the situation. "I'm not going to have this conversation with you again. You can't change the past."

Pearl does not want to listen to this what if, but if crap. If they'd stayed inside, HYDRA could've killed everyone in that restaurant for whatever reason or Sam could've appeared and safely gotten them home without a scratch. Or they would've all died. Knowing what could've happened is impossible and dwelling on it won't help anyone.

"Before I got shot, it was the best date I've ever had and that's how I want to remember it," Pearl says in her very best 'end of conversation' manner. It was truly the best date ever and she would much rather have it be a separate event from the shooting, so she can look back on the best date ever without being constantly reminded that it ended with an ambulance trip.

"I thought you were going to die," Bucky says with a sad look on his face, making Pearl regret being so harsh. She can't possibly know the though process he went through before she woke up. He looks at her. "I'm so sorry. I won't let this happen again."

Pearl extends out her arm, and Bucky grabs her hand. She gives him a faint smile, which he reciprocates.

"Is my family still here?" Pearl asks, dying to change the subject. A nurse comes in to bring her some food and checks her vitals. She says the doctor will swing by later.

"They went to a hotel. They asked to be notified when you wake up. I can go-" Bucky begins before Pearl cuts him off.

"No, don't. Not yet," she says, cringing on the inside.

The corner of Bucky's lip twitches upwards but he doesn't say anything. Before leaving, the nurse checks Pearl's incision site while Bucky politely covers his eyes.

"I can't believe my mom didn't come," Pearl says, poking at the disgusting looking mush on her plate. At least the green jello looks almost edible.

Bucky smiles compassionately. "Your father said she wasn't well enough."

Pearl scoffs. "Yeah. You could put it like that."

As Pearl tastes the jello, Bucky seems to be pondering something, because he looks like he's trying to say something. Pearl hopes it's not something about the damn shooting again.

"Why didn't you tell me about your brother?" Bucky finally asks.

He knows. Of course he knows, most of her family is here, so why wouldn't he know. Pearl doesn't really know how to begin explaining it without sounding crazy, because that's what it is. She puts down her spoon and takes a deep breath to prepare herself for this. It's not exactly her favorite subject.

"It's been four years, and sometimes, I still pick up the phone to call him," she says.

"You can't accept it?" he asks, gently squeezing her hand.

"No, I can. I have. It's over, I've moved on," she says, exasperated. She can't even explain it properly.

"But?"

"I don't even know. And you know, Patrick does drugs, you know, like prescription drugs, and Penelope found God, mom never leaves the house, and dad quit his job to take care of her, and I-" She pauses to swallow the giant lump that's appeared in her throat. "I just.. I don't want to forget him, so sometimes, I act like he's not dead."

She never meant to start doing it, but shortly after his death, whenever she'd meet new people and they'd ask about her family, she would automatically just answer like nothing had changed, out of habit. And then, when she tried telling people the truth, it not only forced her to relive it, but made them look at her with pity, so the lie kind of stuck.

"It's insane, I know. That's what my therapist said," Pearl says.

Technically, her therapist never used the word insane, but that's the implication Pearl got. He said it's just another form of denial, even though Pearl tried to argue that it's just her way of keeping his memory alive. He would ask why couldn't she tell people Philip's dead and then share the same stories about him, and to this day, she hasn't completely figured out the logic behind it, but it is much nicer to hear people tell her Philip sounds awesome and they'd love to meet him, than it is to hear the same, shallow condolences for the thousandth time.

"I don't think so," Bucky says. Pearl doesn't know if she believes he's being sincere. He definitely looks like it.

"Well, I do," she says jokingly, trying to hold back tears. She's not going to cry now. "It's been over a year since I visited his grave. I missed his birthday."

"We'll go. As soon you get out of here," Bucky says with a smile.

He's being so sweet and caring and Pearl can feel her eyes welling up, so she rolls her eyes and changes the subject, because the combination of the subject at hand, the painkillers, the lack of proper sleep and his goddamn adorable face is making her way too emotional.

"No, because when I get out of here, we'll have to focus on making you a functioning member of society," she says.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "We can't do both?"

"Do you want this to turn into an indie road trip movie, where we both end up learning valuable life lessons and meeting quirky characters along the way?" Pearl says jokingly.

"I have no idea what that means."

The completely blank look on his face makes Pearl start laughing, but it's cut short by a twinge of pain in her chest. Of course he doesn't know what the hell she's talking about. Their conversation is interrupted by Tony, knocking on the door frame. "Are you up for visitors?"

Pearl nods. "Always."

He steps inside, followed by Natasha. Bucky excuses himself to go call Pearl's family. Just the thought makes her groan. It's not that they're bad people or anything, and she loves her family very much, but they don't always agree with her decisions. Her mom is probably at home, thinking about how Pearl would've never gotten shot if she'd moved back home and gotten married. Even so, she's still pissed her mom didn't come.

"How you doing, kid?" Tony asks.

"I think I might have to miss that meeting on Wednesday," Pearl says, making Natasha chuckle.

"I'm shocked," Tony says in a sarcastic tone topped off with a grin.

Pearl laughs. "It's too bad my insurance policy doesn't kick in for another two weeks. You guys would've covered gunshots, right?"

"You don't have to worry about that," Tony says.

"What?" Pearl asks, because Tony looks weird, like really weird and he was really quick to tell her not to worry herself, and Pearl thinks she knows why, but hopes she's wrong. "Tony, what did you do?"

"Nothing," he says, fiddling with the edge of Pearl's bed, like he's trying to figure out what it's made of, but really he's just avoiding the question. Pearl glances over to Natasha, who simply shakes her head like she wants nothing to do with this. Pearl sighs.

"Tony," she says firmly, commanding his attention. "You can't go around paying people's medical bills. I have money."

"No, I have money. You have peanuts," he says, confirming her suspicions.

Pearl rolls her eyes. He's being very annoying. "Can I ask why?"

"Why not?" he replies in his usual arrogant manner, which makes Pearl want to strange him.

"I'm paying you back," she says and totally means it.

It doesn't matter how much it costs, she doesn't want to be indebted to someone, especially someone she works for and barely knows. She knows Tony's a billionaire and it probably doesn't mean anything to him, but it should. It's a nice thing to do. Too nice. She still feels weird about Patrick paying for her school and that's age old news, although now that she's got money, she could pay him back. After his rehab, obviously.

"Glad you're alright, kid," Tony says with a wink before quickly slipping out the door.

"There is something wrong with him," Pearl says to Natasha, who simply shrugs as she sits down on the edge of Pearl's bed.

"He throws money at things. It's his idea of helping," she replies.

It's still unnecessary and wrong, unless her bills turn out to be something astronomical and then she may feel a bit silly for trying to turn down the help.

"He really does seem to like you, though," Natasha says, grabbing Pearl's spoon and stealing some of her jello so quickly Pearl doesn't have a chance to stop her.

"You realize you're eating the only thing on this tray that I was planning to eat?" she asks.

Natasha laughs, her spoon already headed for another scoop. "I'll bring you mozzarella sticks."

Maybe Pearl can forgive the jello, of course, depending on the amount of mozzarella sticks that will be brought, as well as where from and with what dip. Pearl smiles in agreement.

"Your dad had a lot of questions last night," Natasha says.

"Oh, fuck," Pearl says. Of course he had questions. Someone shot his little girl, why wouldn't he have questions? "What did you tell him?"

"As little as possible. I said somebody tried to mug you," Natasha says simply, and Pearl knows they most likely bought it, because Natasha is nothing short of an amazing liar.

"And Bucky?"

"Bucky's just a guy you met at work. Patrick was asking a lot about his arm, though, but I said Bucky's a war veteran, and that shut him up," Natasha says, scooping up the rest of the jello and putting down the cup.

Technically, Natasha didn't even lie. Not about Bucky, anyway. The thought of explaining the whole story, with HYDRA and Bucky and her current job and all that, to her family just does not seem like something she wants to do, ever. They were barely okay with the CIA thing, no matter how many times she tried to convince them it's not dangerous and she doesn't even carry a gun.

"Anyway, they're on their way here."

Before her family gets there, fake George, actually named Doctor Mark Reed, comes in to explain the situation to her once more, down to the gory details of her surgery. Pearl finds out that the large caliber bullet she was shot with, is actually still in her lung and they have no intention of taking it out, which is kind of cool but also kind of scary, but the doctor assures her it's safe as it's nowhere near her heart and will most likely not be traveling there either. 'Most likely' does not exactly convince her, but hearing it's much more dangerous to try taking it out, does.

Doctor Mark, as he allows Pearl to call him after she bats her eyelashes a little, tells her she'll most likely be out of the hospital by Sunday, hopefully even sooner, which just sounds unbelievable to Pearl, who was assuming she'd be stuck wearing an awful hospital gown for weeks. The doctor leaves just as Pearl's family arrives and Natasha goes with him.

"What's up, Peanut?" Patrick asks, leaning over and wrapping an arm around her neck. He looks more and more like dad everyday, but he's probably got at least another ten years until the gray hair starts coming in.

"Don't call me Peanut," Pearl says with a smile, returning the hug as best as she can.

Pearl never had a real nickname. Patrick's Pat, Penelope's Penny and Philip was Pip, but coming up with a nickname for Pearl was a long struggle for Patrick, who couldn't give it a rest until he found one that stuck. He never really did, but Peanut did have a good run of one whole year until Patrick left for college and by the time he came back, it was forgotten.

Penelope says a quick hello and tries to bend over for a hug, but it proves to be a futile attempt with her giant stomach getting in the way. Pearl laughs.

"Your mother sends her best," dad says, standing on the other side of her bed, placing his hand over hers.

And there it is. If he would've just not mentioned mom at all, she could've let it slide that she's not here.

"Right. You would think that somebody shooting at her youngest living child would get her the hell out of that house, but no," Pearl says, trying to stay calm but feeling her whole jaw tightening up. Dad lets go of her hand and looks to be grinding his teeth.

"Pearl, please," Penelope tries to plead. This isn't exactly the first time they've had a conversation like this.

"No, it's fine. Olivia, Jack, Grace, Zach and fetus can all grow up thinking it's completely normal that grandma never leaves the house, until they realize it's not," Pearl says, looking her father in the eyes, his furious stare now matching hers.

"Don't call the baby fetus," Penny says.

"Sorry."

"You will not talk about your mother like that," dad says, his voice almost emotionless.

"Why? Why can't we talk about it?" Pearl asks, suddenly feeling like a teenager again.

Dad sighs. "Because this is not the time and place."

"It never is," Pearl says.

"Pearl Olivia Palmer!" dad says, raising his voice, making her really feel like a teenager again, though even back then he was never all that strict and usually only shouted with good reason, but the whole calling her by her full name thing just takes her back to those days.

"Fine. I'm sorry," she says quietly. Maybe she'll bring up the subject again in a year or so. Maybe over Christmas, that should be fun.

Dad says he has some questions for Doctor Mark, so he leaves, visibly disappointed, and Pearl turns back to Pat and Penny. "So, what's new with you guys?"

They look at each other as if to decide who goes first. Patrick wins. He takes a deep breath. "Nina's making me go to rehab."

Pearl's jaw drops open. Patrick looks at his wide-eyed sister and quickly nudges Penny's elbow, as if to change the subject.

"I'm having twins," Penny says, holding her hand over the giant bump that is her belly.

If it was possible, Pearl's jaw would hit the floor right about now. "Oh, wow."

At least that explains the huge bump. And maybe the bags under Patrick's eyes. Pearl doesn't really know how to react except to congratulate both her siblings. Patrick says he's already been going to a very high class institution twice a week and will be starting his actual rehab there next week. It's supposedly a very glamorous and expensive place, one with celebrities and everything.

Penny says she and Adam haven't found out if they're having boys or girls or both, but they're very excited and have already been looking at bigger houses to fit their constantly growing herd of children. Pearl and Patrick listen politely to her yammering on about names and houses and pre-schools and baptisms, both probably hoping these will be the last children Penny produces, just so they can be spared from enduring the painfully long ceremony that she calls a baptism. It's like an average, Catholic baptism but with more hymns and more prayer, some chick playing the harp and a really old priest, who can barely speak three words a minute, and after the first thirty minutes, it gets rather repetitive. When Grace was born, it was understandable, because it was her first child, and they thought she'd chill out a little with Zachary, but instead, she made it even more of a spectacle.

"Thank God you're alright," Penny says, finally noticing the glazed look in the eyes of her so called audience.

"I don't think God had much to do with it," Pearl says and then stops herself from continuing that thought.

Penelope smiles warmly. "I know you don't, but luckily, He understands that."

The stream of visitors seems to be never ending, as Sam appears in the doorway. It's a nice feeling for Pearl, knowing everybody wants to see her and talk to her.

"Is this a bad time?" he asks.

"No, dude. Come in," Patrick says, motioning for Sam to step inside. He gives Pearl a kiss on the forehead. "We'll go find dad."

They begin to leave, but before they reach the door, Penny turns around one last time. "Pearl, please go easy on him. He's doing the best he can."

Pearl sighs as Sam sits down on the chair next to the bed. He gives her a questioning, worrisome look, to which she replies with a smile. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Pearly girl," Sam says. His eyes dart from the chest tube to the IV to the disgusting slop of food. His brow furrows and he clears his throat before speaking again. He looks directly at her, but it seems to make him uncomfortable. "I feel responsible."

It's almost like she's heard something like this before, not too long ago. Major deja-vu moment. "What?"

"I thought it was okay for me to step out for a while and then everything went to hell. I'm sorry," Sam says.

"It's not your fault, you couldn't have known," Pearl says. Really, she just wants to put Bucky and Sam in a room together and watch them fight over who's more responsible for what happened, but beyond being entertaining, that would serve no purpose, because she doesn't want to hold either responsible. "And from what I hear, you helped save my life."

Sam rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't think they would actually come after him."

"Me neither. I don't blame you," Pearl says. He doesn't look convinced so she gives him a smile, which he kind of reciprocates, but not really. His eyes keep staring at the machines surrounding her.

"So, where were you?" Pearl asks.

"Huh?"

Pearl raises an eyebrow. "When you left? Where did you go?"

Sam hesitates for a moment, but in the end, Pearl's intense stare wears him down. He sighs. "I was backstage, leaving a box of chocolates for my special lady friend to enjoy after her set."

Backstage? Set? Lady friend? The wheels start turning in Pearl's head.

"Wait, what? The singer from the restaurant? That's who you've been texting?" Pearl asks, still trying to process the information. It's as if every visitor she's had today comes with their own shocking news.

Sam nods. "We've been dating for some time now."

"Wow. That's... Wow."

Pearl is almost speechless, which usually never happens. She was almost beginning to think Sam had made up this girl he refused to talk about.

"Her name's Mae," he says, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face.

Pearl shakes her head in complete disbelief. "I can't believe I had to get shot for you to tell me this."

"Tell you what?"

They both turn to see Steve standing at the doorway, clearly waiting for his turn to come visit. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Sam gives Pearl a meaningful look, as in 'don't tell Steve and I might let you meet my girlfriend' or maybe just 'don't tell Steve', so Pearl quickly improvises something.

"His favorite movie," she says.

"Which is?" Steve asks.

Pearl names the first movie that pops into her head. "The Muppet Movie. And if that's not on your list, it should be."

"It's all about that rainbow connection, man. I'm telling you," Sam says.

Pearl's jaw drops open and she looks at Sam, who just grins. She was just trying to be a little funny and fool Steve, but Sam actually knows The Muppet Movie. And knows it well, clearly. Sam is awesome.

Steve doesn't respond and just stares at the two of them with his serious face on. Sam gets up to leave and there's a really weird energy in the room, like they're fighting or something, but they don't say anything.

Steve sits down. "So, you and Bucky?"

"Me and Bucky," Pearl replies, trying to read his mood now that Sam's gone. It turns out to be impossible.

"How's that going?" he asks.

"What, you came here for girl talk?" Pearl asks, slightly amused, since he doesn't exactly seem like the type to have girl talk or relationship talk or whatever.

Steve shrugs. "I'm just asking."

The tone in his voice suggests he does, in fact, want to talk about her and Bucky, but not in the 'are you dating' kind of way but more like a 'this is a bad idea' kind of way. "You're worried."

"A little," Steve says. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he's happy, and you've been great, but I worry about him."

"No, I know. I do, too," Pearl says, looking Steve straight in the eyes without even blinking and nods her head slowly. It seems to convince him, as the look on his face goes from hidden worry to relief. The moment doesn't last very long.

"Now, what do you want me to do about Sam?" he asks, focusing his serious stare onto her.

"What?"

"He's been messing up quite a bit. I'm sorry about that and I think maybe I should assign someone else to watch Bucky," he says.

Someone else? What? Pearl stares blankly at Steve until he explains.

"Bucky escaped and stole Tony's car on his watch, and you got shot, also on his watch."

Alright, that makes sense, kind of, even if he sounds like he's explaining it to a child.

"You know about the car?" Pearl asks.

Creases appear on Steve's otherwise smooth forehead. "Of course I know about it."

"Well, that's not really Sam's fault. What is he supposed to do, stay up all night, just in case Bucky decides to leave?" Pearl asks. "And even then, Bucky could probably sneak out undetected. He's a freaking ghost story."

He's an assassin for Christ's sake and he's got all these ninja skills, of course he can sneak out undetected.

"Okay, fine, but he was supposed to be watching you two, and you almost died," Steve says after a long sigh.

"There's been no HYDRA activity for a long time. Nobody could've predicted this," Pearl says.

After Sokovia, remaining HYDRA soldiers were detained and the rest most likely went into hiding. It would make sense that they could really use Bucky to rebuild the organization, but there's probably only a handful of them left.

"I could. That's why I specifically had Sam come with you wherever you went. This is not the time to get sloppy." He sounds pissed off, which is understandable.

Pearl knows the stories about Captain America. She's read about him in her history books and she's had the pleasure of hearing Bucky's re-telling of classic events. She's always thought he's a good guy, but it's not until right this moment that she really gets it. He's not only a good guy, he's a good captain and a keen strategical mind. She thought he was just being annoyingly overly cautious, having Sam follow Bucky everywhere, but in hindsight, it makes perfect sense. He was right, but they didn't take him seriously enough.

Despite all that, Pearl thinks he's being too harsh. "Fine, whatever. It's your team. I don't blame Sam and I don't think you should replace him. I know he feels bad about what happened."

"I'll think about it," Steve says. He's still looking very serious.

"While you're at it, think about the possibility of just letting Bucky do what he wants, without a bodyguard," Pearl suggests. Bucky is very capable of keeping himself safe and now that they know the threat is real, they'll be better prepared.

Steve reacts as one would expect. "What? Now? Are you crazy?"

"Yeah, probably," Pearl says. She kind of wants to blame the drugs for making her say these things, but the idea's actually been brewing in her head for a while. This just might not be the best time to bring it up. "I just, you know, I plan on going on more dates and if I take Bucky to my apartment, I would feel very uncomfortable having Sam wait in the car. Or, you know, outside my door."

"Well, I, uh, yeah. I see your point," Steve says, clearly a bit flustered.

"This is purely a hypothetical, of course."


	15. Lame Way To Die

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
** **L** **AME WAY TO DIE**

* * *

It's already Wednesday night when Natasha finally brings by the mozzarella sticks she promised, saying she got them from a little restaurant down the street. Six sticks, clearly homemade and not just from the freezer, served with a generous helping of garlic mayonnaise, that is possibly the greatest thing since, well, regular mayonnaise.

As Pearl munches on her very healthy dinner, a chain of thoughts begins forming in her head. First, she wonders how long she could eat nothing but mozzarella sticks without getting bored, which leads her to the thought of how fat she would probably get, because there's no way she'd ever get bored, which leads her to think about all the clothes she wouldn't be able to fit into, which leads her to the dress. The most awesome, most skin-tight dress in the world. The dress she bought for her date. The dress that's now got a bullet hole through it and is... Where?

"What happened to my dress?" Pearl asks.

Natasha cringes, like she doesn't want to answer the question. Her voice sounds hesitant. "I think they threw it away."

It's understandable. They probably had to cut her out of it for the surgery and it was probably all bloody and everything, at least judging by the amount of blood on Bucky's shirt after the shooting, and it probably couldn't have been fixed. But it still hurts. Now she really has to go back to Barney's.

"And my shoes?" Pearl asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"They're in that cabinet," Natasha says with a smile, pointing behind her to the cabinet next to Pearl's television, and it's like a weight has been lifted. At least the shoes are fine and not in a trash can or lying in a back alley behind the restaurant. A bullet through her lung and losing her new favorite dress she can deal with, just barely, but parting with her brand new Louboutins would've been too much.

"So, your family went home?" Natasha asks, snapping Pearl out of a shoe related daydream.

"Yeah. I told them to go," Pearl says. "It was nice that they came, but I'll be fine. No need to put everyone's life on hold."

On Thursday, right at the crack of dawn, Doctor Mark pulls out the chest tube, saying her lung can now inflate on it's own and she doesn't need the tube anymore, which is awesome, because it's another step towards getting out of the hospital. Time may be flying by with people dropping by constantly, but it's still not exactly a five-star resort. He also gives her the order to get out of bed and walk as much as she can. She also gets a wheelchair, which is pretty cool, because she's always wanted to try being in a wheelchair, but it's not like she can just ask someone to borrow theirs to test it out as it would sound kind of inappropriate and probably offensive, but she can't help it.

As Pearl eats her extremely nutritious breakfast consisting of exactly one banana and one slice of toast, Tony comes by.

"That's your breakfast?" he asks. She nods. "That's sad."

Pearl shrugs. "They also had yoghurt and granola, but I'm not much of a granola person."

"You don't look like one."

She doesn't dare ask him what a granola person looks like and instead eats another bite of toast. It's dry. "I can't wait to get out of here and eat something I actually like."

"Like what? What's your absolute favorite food?" Tony asks

"Mac and cheese," she says instantly.

"Mac and cheese? What are you, five?"

"Don't mock the classics. But none of that out of the box stuff."

Tony feigns a look of relief. "At least you have some standards."

He drops a bunch of case files next to her banana, saying she should read through them, and won't take no for an answer, when she tries to tell him she probably won't be much use for him for a while, because technically, she's on sick leave.

"You're not allowed to do anything physical. This is purely a mental exercise. Let me know if you have any thoughts," he says, leaving her with a huge pile of stuff to sort through. She starts flipping through one of the folders, just to tell him she did take a look, but it turns out to be really interesting and even though the whole thing is just a bunch of disgruntled employees grasping at straws, the people suing Tony have actually made somewhat of a legitimate case against him. Pearl can't put the files down until Sam steps through her door, approximately ninety minutes later.

They exchange a quick hello, and Pearl asks where Sam has left Bucky this morning. Sam shrugs. "Steve took him somewhere. I don't know."

"Oh, okay," Pearl says with a smile. He looks kind of strange, sad almost. She slams shut the folder in front of her. "You wanna push me around the hospital in a wheelchair?"

Sam's brow furrows. Pearl nods over to the corner, where the wheelchair is, and he looks over. He shrugs again. "Sure."

Sam helps Pearl out of bed and into the chair and hangs her IV drip onto a hook on the back of it. He pushes her wheelchair around the halls of the hospital, only occasionally grunting or mumbling something resembling words, as Pearl tries to strike up a conversation about hospital food or asking if Sam's seen any good movies lately, but eventually she gives up.

He wheels her to the cafeteria and over to a table. He brings over a cup of coffee for himself and a hot chocolate for Pearl, accompanied by two small muffins that look to be a little past their prime. Pearl bites into one out of courtesy, and it's exactly as she expected: dry, dusty and tasteless yet somehow horribly unpleasant. The expression on her face as she tries to fight the urge of spitting it out makes Sam chuckle. He takes a bite out of his muffin, only to quickly reach for a napkin.

"That's pretty bad," he says, shoving his plate towards the edge of the table. Pearl does the same and takes a sip of her cocoa to wash away the taste.

She doesn't ask about the weird vibe he's giving, but eventually, by the time their drinks are nearly gone, he speaks. "Steve's pretty pissed at me."

Pearl looks at Sam. He's focused on the paper cup in front of him, running his finger around the outer rim. She tries to sound cheerful. "It'll blow over."

Sam looks up. "He says you stood up for me."

There's some confusion in his voice and his expression. Pearl is kind of taken aback by this and obviously, the only thing she can do is roll her eyes. "Well, duh."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because when I say I don't blame you, I really mean it. I don't just tell people what they want to hear," Pearl says, looking straight into his eyes.

"But why?"

Pearl sighs. "Because... I can't live my life thinking 'what if', you know?"

"I get that, I guess," Sam says, not really sounding all that convincing.

"Yeah, see, when people do the 'what if' thing, it's always just 'if Sam had been there, none of this would've happened' when there's an infinite number of things that could've happened," Pearl says.

She doesn't really mean to start ranting, but thanks to the bullet, her family and the painkillers she's still on, she's feeling very emotional and the words just start pouring out.

"It's like my mom, you know. She's got a list of scenarios, that could've happened the day my brother got hit by a car, like, if she had allowed him to stay out longer, he'd still be here. If they hadn't re-scheduled their shopping day, he'd still be here. If she'd gone to pick him up, he'd still be here and blah, blah, blah, it just keeps going and going and she can't let it go and I just-"

Sam's looking at her like she's falling off the rails or something, thanks to the clear agitation in her voice, so Pearl stops. She clears her throat and gulps down the rest of her drink.

"I didn't know that about your mom. I'm sorry," Sam says softly.

Pearl gives him a faint smile in return. She takes a breath to calm herself a little. "My point is, there's no way of knowing what's going to happen."

"Steve knew something would," Sam reminds her.

"Yeah, and he took the necessary precautions, which both you and I thought to be a little too much, and clearly, we were both wrong," Pearl says and sees the corner of Sam's mouth tugging up. She just wants him to know that Steve maybe pissed off, but that's not going to affect anything. "If you weren't there, I might not be here right now. That's all I care about."

Sam smiles in response and promises to bring her a much better muffin later.

On Saturday, Pearl is allowed to leave the hospital. Everybody insists she'll come and live at the compound, even though Doctor Mark says she'd be perfectly fine at home. Steve says he's not willing to risk something happening while she's alone, and there's no use in fighting him, especially when he's being backed up by not only Bucky but Sam and Natasha, too. Pearl gives Natasha the key to her place along with a list of essential items she'll need.

Natasha looks at the list, then back at Pearl with her very best 'are you kidding me' look.

"What do you need four different lipsticks for? You're basically on bed rest," she asks, not even trying to hide her annoyed tone.

"I still want to look nice," Pearl says, looking down at the ugly hospital gown she's wearing and then batting her lashes at her friend.

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Whatever. I'm not bringing you six nice dresses, though."

"I crossed that out. I only need three, I think. Maybe four, so I'll have options," Pearl says, making Natasha take a deep breath and probably resist every urge to talk back, but it's not like she'll be completely shut off from the outside world or anything and it's always best to be prepared for everything.

A swift car ride later, Pearl, now wearing a brand new set of Stark Industries lounge wear that had somehow appeared in her closet at the hospital, arrives at the facility, where they've already set up a room for her, located right across the hall from Bucky's, which just confirms her suspicion that they've been planning on this for some time now and even if the doctor had said she could just resume living as usual, they wouldn't have taken no for an answer.

The weird vibe between Steve and Sam continues as Steve tells Sam he's not needed for the rest of the day, and Sam leaves, looking all sorts of disappointed and angry. Pearl doesn't dare ask about any of it, because Steve looks so intense it's almost frightening and it reminds her of the time her father caught her smoking at age fourteen, so she just lies on the couch for a while and watches television with Bucky, who is also feeling the weirdness and staying quiet, as Steve rifles through papers in the kitchen. Pearl sends a text to Sam, asking if he's okay, but he doesn't respond.

As another episode of a Simpsons marathon is about to start, Pearl peeks above the couch cushions to see Steve, completely focused on his papers and his laptop, and thinks it's possibly a good time to get away from under his watch. Obviously, they could just leave and say they're leaving, but she doesn't know how strictly he wants to keep an eye on Bucky from now on, so she fears he would come with them and that might be awkward.

"Let's go," Pearl whispers to Bucky, who's across the coffee table, sitting in an armchair.

He looks over. Pearl motions towards Steve. Bucky glances over and nods. "Where?"

They continue speaking in hushed tones, occasionally checking to see if Steve has heard them.

"To the gym," Pearl says.

Bucky scrunches up his face. "You're not allowed to exercise."

As if it's ever been Pearl's favorite thing. As if she's just so keen on getting back to physical fitness, that she would risk her recovery, although right about now, with everything that's been going on, beating the dust out of a boxing bag doesn't sound like a bad idea.

"I'm allowed to watch," Pearl says in her best seductive tone, looking at Bucky from under her eyebrows, but the message clearly loses something because of the whispering.

He looks even more confused, his face even more scrunched up. "Why would you want to watch?"

Pearl sighs. "Do you really need me to spell it out for you?"

He stares at her blankly. Apparently he does.

"You've got a nice body and you get sweaty. Sometimes you take your shirt off," she says, raising both eyebrows. The wheels turn in his head and his cheeks turn a nice shade of pink.

"Oh."

Fifteen minutes later, Pearl sits on the floor of the gym, her legs crossed, watching as Bucky pounds away at a boxing bag, thinking about how incredibly dumb it was to tell him she wanted to see him shirtless, because it actually lead to him taking off his shirt, and not even in the middle of his workout, like usual, but right at the beginning, so he's been shirtless for a while now and it's quite possibly the best thing she's seen in a long time, because he's sweaty and hot and she can clearly see his muscles flexing, but it's also the worst possible scenario for her to be looking at right now.

She's frustrated, as in, sexually, and she's so completely over the whole celibacy thing, that if Bucky were to pin her right under him, right at this moment, and rip off her clothes and just take her right here and now, she wouldn't try to stop him. In fact, she would start thanking every single god she could think of, just in case one of them was behind it. But he won't. She knows he won't. He didn't even get her hint when she tried to sound all seductive, wanting to watch his workout, and when she explained it, he was suddenly all blushed, so he's clearly got other things on his mind besides sex. It takes Pearl a while to figure out, what changed between their date, where he was very openly flirty and dirty and suggestive, and now, but she's pretty sure she knows what the deal is.

It's the goddamn bullet. Ever since that freaking thing, Bucky's been treating her like she's made of glass or something. He's been sweet and caring and attentive, basically everything anybody could dream of, and Pearl should be happy. She is happy. She would just be happier, if he would kiss her somewhere that's not her forehead for once. Just one really good kiss every now and then could keep her going until she's all healed and they can, hopefully, resume the whole dating process. Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud, or what could more accurately be described as the loudest fucking sound in the history of loud sounds, that almost makes Pearl's heart jump to her throat because the stream of inappropriate nonsense flooding her brain has, up until now, been accompanied by the rhythmic jabs of Bucky's gloves hitting the punching bag, and the sudden change in tempo snaps her back to reality. She looks over to see the boxing bag lying five feet away from where it used to hang, and Bucky, still in the same spot, breathing heavily.

"Bucky?" Pearl asks carefully and he looks over to her. She doesn't really know what to say, mostly because she's never seen him like this, except when he turned back into the Asset, but he's not the Asset now, he's just Bucky and he looks kind of taken aback by what just happened. "Are you alright?"

There's a question mark plastered all over his face, so Pearl nods towards the punching bag. "You seem kind of... Aggressive."

It's the understatement of the year, really. Bucky clears his throat. "I'm just..."

He looks deep in thought as he wipes off the sweat from his forehead and sighs. "I'll calm down once we find them."

"Them? HYDRA?" Pearl asks, as if she really needs to. Bucky nods, mumbling an affirmative sound. He walks over to pick up the bag and hangs it back up again.

"Steve says they might be hiding out upstate," he says.

Of course Steve's already on top of the whole thing. Pearl is not surprised at all. She is, however, worried about Bucky's mental state. This whole HYDRA thing could be opening up old wounds and it doesn't sound like something he should even be privy to. Maybe she'll need to talk to Steve and tell him to keep Bucky out of the whole mess.

"And what will happen once you find them?" Pearl asks, even though she's got a pretty good idea of what he'll say and however he chooses to word it, will most likely only reaffirm her decision to talk to Steve. Bucky doesn't answer. She sees his jaw clenching as he unwraps gauze from his hands, his eyes focused on the task at hand. "Bucky?"

He stops. "I want to kill them."

He says exactly what she was afraid of, but it still takes her a minute to really hear it. She's tries to think of how to answer, trying to figure out the right words to say, because she doesn't want to tell him that it's not normal to feel what he's feeling, because it is totally normal to want revenge and the only thing separating him from the average Joe is his ability to actually do something about it and possibly the fact that he's spent a long time acting as the hand of justice to a fucked up organization, handing out death sentences where they saw fit, so his sense of justice may be slightly warped, no matter how much he would hate to admit it, so, in that sense, it's not normal.

"That's bad, right?" Bucky asks, slightly tilting his head, probably wondering why Pearl's been quiet for what seems like an abnormally long time.

"It's human, I think. You want revenge, not only for what they did to me, but to you, as well," she finally says. "But you need to let that go."

"I'm supposed to just forget?" Bucky asks. He walks over and sits right next to her on the floor.

"No. I want you to find them and bring them to justice," Pearl says, only slightly lying and only slightly getting distracted by his bare chest before realizing that it's really very inappropriate to be thinking about such things in the middle of this kind of a conversation, but at least it's not as bad as when she became a counselor at church camp and spent an entire summer just drooling over the hot, young priest, who just wanted to save her soul but ultimately failed, and took every possible chance to be left alone with him. This isn't quite up there with that.

"That won't feel nearly as good," Bucky says.

"Probably not, but it'll make it easier for you to live with yourself," Pearl replies, looking into his beautiful eyes, trying to sound as compassionate as she can.

Seeing how he's struggled with the mindless killings he performed while under HYDRA's spell, Pearl thinks Bucky would definitely come to regret the rash decision to go after the agents that shot her.

"You don't think they deserve to die?" he asks.

"I think... I think they're doing what they've been taught. They haven't been brainwashed quite to the extent you were, but with organizations like this, people become drones. They don't think for themselves."

There's a small part of Pearl, that also wants revenge, but it's a very small part. Tiny, really. It's not that she's forgiven them, but it's not really her place to start deciding who deserves to live. The two agents might be the new brains behind the whole operation or they might just be nameless, faceless soldiers doing what they were told. She doesn't know how they ended up in HYDRA or if they had a choice in the matter. They probably believe the whole HYDRA agenda and truly think they're doing the right thing, even though it sounds ridiculous to an outsider. Whatever the case is, there's always a billion sides to every story. The friends and family of the people killed by The Winter Soldier, The Asset, probably wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his skull if they knew where to find him, but they wouldn't know his story. They most likely wouldn't care either, but Pearl does.

Meeting someone like Bucky makes it very hard to see the world in black and white.

"I would be a hypocrite if I wanted them dead and not you," Pearl says. She unzips her hoodie, revealing a tank top underneath to cool off a little, because Bucky is like a radiator next to her, because he's still warm from the exercising and the impure thoughts running around in Pearl's head are making her heart race a little faster, making her even warmer.

Bucky seems to ponder it for a while. His forehead creases as he assesses her words. "That's different."

Pearl shrugs. "Maybe, but we can't know that."

And then, he does it. Completely out of the blue, with no previous indication that this conversation would end in anything beyond hand holding, Bucky leans in to kiss her. It's a kiss that was way overdue and as Pearl closes her eyes and responds, she can only hope she won't have to wait days for the next one. His soft lips caress hers and his hand moves up to cup her face and drops down the shoulder of her hoodie. The feel of cold metal against her warm skin lifts up the hairs on the back of her neck, as he slides his hand down her neck, around her shoulder and across her back. He pulls away from the kiss and Pearl opens her eyes to see Bucky looking at her with a hint of a smile, his hand still resting in the small of her back.

"What was that for?" Pearl asks.

"For not dying," Bucky says.

Pearl lets out a little laugh and rolls her eyes. "It'll take more than a bullet to kill me. That would've been such a lame way to die."

Bucky's smile disappears. "Could you be serious for a little while?"

Pearl sighs and reaches over to lightly punch Bucky's shoulder. "Did we not just have a very serious conversation?"

"Yes, but I'm trying to say I'm glad you're still here and you're making a joke," he says in a serious tone.

He stares at her, making her want to look away and dismiss what he's trying to say, but she doesn't. If she's going to do this, she'll try to fight every single instinct, every little snippet of fear that tries to stop her from getting too attached to Bucky. She is attached and she cares about him and unless he's a complete moron, he's probably figured that out, so it's not like her saying something to that effect would come as a surprise to him. It's not like they're exchanging those very specific three words.

Pearl hesitates. "I'm... Very happy to hear you say that."

What she wants to say is how happy it makes her, that she's still here with him, how glad she is to have someone, who feels so strongly about what happened and how much it would've sucked to die just on the cusp of something that could be amazing, something that can make her happy, but the words don't manage their way out of her mouth.

Pearl smiles widely to break the emotional moment. She can't handle any more right now. "And on that note, why'd you wait so long to kiss me again?"

"You're still recovering," Bucky says with a shrug.

Pearl rolls her eyes. "Yeah, but I don't want to be treated like I'm fragile."

He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching up his nose. "I was afraid I'd get carried away."

Carried away? What does that mean? Pearl studies his face, his slightly pink cheeks and his teeth biting on his lower lip, as he fidgets around on the floor, avoiding eye contact. And then it clicks and she remembers back to the passion they had that one time in her apartment. If that's getting carried away, then she's totally all for it.

"You are absolutely within your rights to get as carried away as you want, I mean, I asked the doctor and he said it's totally fine," Pearl says, trying to sound sort of coy, since euphemisms seem to be a theme for the day.

Bucky looks dumbfounded. "Wait, what? You asked your doctor if you could..."

"If I could have sex," Pearl says, flat out, because the euphemism clearly went over his head, although, technically, he came up with it. Maybe he didn't exactly mean sex and that confused him.

She didn't want to tell him before, but now that he's just about admitted that just a kiss could make him lose control, it seems like the perfect time to admit she's thought about it, too. Like, a lot.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "You want to..."

Pearl can't help but smile at the flustered expression on his face. "Well, maybe not right now, but it's nice to have the option."

There's a distinct look of disbelief on his face as he opens his mouth only to close it again with nothing to say. It's nice to see there are still men on this earth, who get confused by her forwardness. His expression changes and a hint of a smirk appears on his lips. Pearl feels her breathing getting heavier as they stare into each others eyes, because she knows he's about to kiss her and God knows what else.

And then, they hear the sound of someone clearing their throat, breaking them out of the moment. They hear footsteps approaching and Pearl turns her head to see Steve walking over from the door. If nothing else, he's got perfect timing.

"You're supposed to be resting," Steve says, looking at Pearl. He then takes a quick glance of shirtless Bucky and looks at the both of them, both eyebrows raised.

"I am. I happen to find this floor very comfortable," Pearl says with a smile. Really, she wants to yell at him to get out, but knows it wouldn't help. The moment is over. She sees Bucky's jaw clenching, so she nudges his arm. He relaxes and gives Steve a little wave.

"Right," Steve says.

"Actually, it's good you're here. I need to talk to you," Pearl says as she gets up from the floor.

Steve nods in agreement and motions towards the door. Bucky shoots a questioning look towards her, which Pearl dismisses with a smile.

"I'll be right back," she says and follows Steve into the hallway.

"I know you're trying to find the agents and I know you've been sharing information with Bucky," she says, getting straight to the point, and bites her bottom lip.

"Yeah, he wants to be involved," Steve says, his eyes narrowing a little.

Pearl zips her hoodie back up. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Steve looks a little surprised. His brow furrows and he looks to be deep in thought. "Did you tell him that?"

"No," Pearl says, shaking her head. She sticks her hands in her pockets.

"Why?"

"I'm trying to protect him," she explains.

"From what?"

Pearl shrugs. "Himself, basically."

She explains herself a little further, saying it might not be healthy for him to take part in the search and capture of the agents and how it could just undo a lot of the progress he's made so far. Steve promises to think about it and turns to leave, but Pearl grabs the sleeve of his shirt. "Before you go, can we go out?"

"What? You and me?" he asks.

Pearl kind of wants to roll her eyes at his question, but decides to try and stay on his good side. "No, me and Bucky. Is he allowed to leave?"

"I would say no, but I can't really stop him, can I?" Steve says, leaning against the wall. "He can leave, but not without me."

"You?" Pearl asks.

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," she says quickly, noting that he kind of looks like he's enjoying this situation. She sighs on the inside.

Of course it's a problem. It was one thing to have Sam come on their date with them, but having Steve tag along would be a whole other story, especially now that he's so adamant about keeping a better eye on Bucky. He's clearly discarded her whole idea of just letting him do whatever he wants, which just complicates Pearl's life massively. Sure, she wants Bucky to be safe, but it's not like he's incompetent at keeping himself out of harms way, and just the thought of Steve, staring at them as they share movie popcorn or go for a picnic in Central Park, is enough to kill all sexual desires.

"Great," Steve says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. "Then it's settled."

Pearl is not really a violent person, but if she ever decides to go on a murderous rampage, her first target will definitely be Steve. It's fine that he's trying to keep Bucky safe, but to take joy in seeing her suffer because of it, that's just wrong. She never expected Captain America to have such a wicked sense of humor.


	16. Friday Night Is Date Night

****CHAPTER S**** ** **IXTEEN**** ** **  
**** ** **FRIDAY NIGHT IS DATE NIGHT**** **  
**

* * *

On the days following Pearl's release from the hospital, there's a really weird vibe at the Avengers facility. Tony's never around, because he's got the lawsuit and apparently a whole myriad of other problems to deal with, and Wanda moves into one of the rooms after getting kicked out of her apartment for accidentally setting fire to her landlord's car. Natasha seems to be travelling extensively and she won't tell Pearl what it's all about, not that she needs to, because Pearl is pretty sure she knows what Natasha is circling the globe for, and Sam never comes over anymore, saying he wants to give Steve some time to cool off, which Pearl understands completely, but it sucks, because what used to be a place full of people running in and out at all times of the day has turned into something resembling the bar Pearl used to work at, except instead of three drunks, Pearl is now accompanied by a former assassin/future boyfriend, a young lady with the power to destroy everything around her and one seriously annoying Captain America.

At least when Sam was on Bucky duty, he kept to himself and minded his own business. He covered for her when something went wrong and he never tried to question what she was doing. He was fun to have around. Steve, on the other hand, is not. Not really in the sense that he's not nice company, he's perfectly fine and Pearl likes him a lot, but he seems to think he's the highest authority when it comes to Bucky related issues now that he's there all the fucking time.

First he completely disregards Pearl's suggestion to leave Bucky out of the HYDRA mess, saying he deserves to see them brought to justice for what they've done, and Pearl gets it, but still thinks it's a miraculously bad idea. Then he totally hijacks their morning workouts, basically forbids Pearl from even entering the gym, saying she should spend the time resting since she's not even supposed to be working now that she's on sick leave. Pearl tries to tell him that it's not exactly hard work to sit on the floor and watch a half-naked man run around and occasionally offer him some water, but Steve won't listen. He doesn't listen to her the third time she suggests letting Bucky out unsupervised, and it takes a long time to convince him to let them at least go walk around the premises by themselves. The premises, that are surrounded by the best technology Stark's money can buy along with a ten-foot fence. He makes both Bucky and Pearl wear GPS trackers in case they're abducted while walking literally right outside the building.

It's kind of ridiculous, but Pearl can't really say anything about it, because she'd be a total bitch if she did. Steve is just a guy, who's trying to keep the closest thing he has to family safe, after thinking he was dead for the longest time and after thinking he wasn't ever going to be himself for a slightly shorter time, and Bucky's just a guy who seems to be enjoying getting to re-connect with his old best friend. So, if she were to start criticizing Steve, it might seem like she was jealous of all the time he's been spending with Bucky, and she's not. She actually thinks it's great that they're bonding again, even if it means she doesn't get to see the sweat dripping from Bucky's chest every morning, and she knows Steve means well when he doesn't allow her to cook or clean or type up stuff on the computer, but at the same time, it's irritating as hell. It's just a bunch of little things piling up to form a larger cluster of annoyance.

But, Bucky seems relatively happy, although he also questions the GPS trackers, so she bites her tongue and tries to ask nicely to get Steve to change his mind about Bucky and about Sam and spends their morning gym time catching up on her work on the computer and starts cooking whenever Steve starts a phone call that could go on for a while, knowing full well he can't make her stop when he comes back. She knows where he's coming from, so she tries very hard not to start a pointless fight. She adapts to the situation.

But she is definitely not taking Steve on her second date with Bucky. Absolutely not, not in a million years. Never. So, she comes up with a plan.

"Are you free tomorrow?" she asks Bucky on Thursday. He looks at her, dumbfounded.

"Yes?" he replies, his face full of confusion.

"Great. I'll pick you up for a date. Is seven alright?" Pearl asks.

"Seven is... Fine."

He looks adorable when he's got no clue what's happening. Pearl smiles her most mischievous smile and just continues on chopping carrots like nothing even happened. Bucky doesn't ask anything and possibly thinks she's gone mental and thinks they're a normal couple, living a normal life, but it doesn't really matter and it's actually better that he'll be surprised.

On Friday, at six, Pearl reminds him of their agreement before retreating into her own room to get ready. She puts on one of the nice dresses she had Natasha bring for her, a navy blue halterneck, that's sort of a 1950's style except it ends above her knees, and pairs it with nude pumps. She does quick touch-ups on her makeup and pops a breath mint into her mouth for extra freshness. At seven, she knocks on Bucky's door. He opens it wearing a lovely light blue dress shirt and some tan colored pants, that, if Pearl remembers correctly, fit him very nicely around the back area, which is what she said when they bought them and now she just kind of wants to slap his ass to further highlight her point, but doesn't, just in case he's not the ass slapping type.

"You look great," Pearl says instead, taking in the whole vision. His hair has grown back a little since she chopped most of it off and it's beginning to be long enough to be pushed back a little, which is exactly what he's done. He's shaved the little stubble he had during the day and he smells exactly like the lemony shower gel they have huge bulk tubs of in every bathroom. It's nice and fresh, but definitely not as intoxicating as his natural body scent.

"I didn't really know where we're going," Bucky says and looks at his outfit with a doubtful face, but it disappears quickly as he notices Pearl's eyes scanning him up and down as her teeth bite down onto her lower lip.

"You look gorgeous," he says, snapping Pearl out of her fantasy. She looks up to see him flashing her that amazing Bucky Barnes smile, which in itself is enough to make her melt, but then he winks and she's just about ready to skip the date and just throw him on the bed, but somehow manages to control herself. She promised Bucky a date and he's getting one. He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek as he steps out and closes the door behind him.

Pearl grabs his hand. "Follow me."

As evident by his face, Bucky is definitely confused when they start walking and pass the front door, the side door and even the kitchen and living room, and head straight downstairs. By the time they reach the main entrance to the gym, he's straight up looking at her like she's lost it as she gestures proudly towards the door.

"I know we haven't been here together in a while, but this isn't really what I expected," Bucky says.

Pearl rolls her eyes. "Just open the door, silly."

As he opens the door, Pearl gets to see her plan realized, and it's exactly what she wished it would be. Little string lights hung up on the walls provide the only light source in an otherwise unlit room, and in the middle of the floor, a red gingham picnic blanket and wicker basket are laid out. Gentle music is playing from little speakers set up around the room.

It could've been fancier, if she had a little more time to prepare, but considering the time restraints and not really being able to leave the facility, at least without arousing Bucky's suspicions, she's very proud of how her indoor picnic has come together.

"How did you do this?" he asks, seemingly impressed.

"I had some help," Pearl says with a smile and a shrug.

Wanda helped, but it was actually Steve who did most of it, making it extra hard for Pearl to be annoyed at him. She didn't even ask for his help. He just overheard Pearl talking to Wanda and offered his assistance, probably just because he was glad she was planning an indoor activity for once, but whatever his reason was, it was very nice of him. She'll have to thank him again, later.

Settling down onto the blanket, Pearl pours herself a glass of wine and offers to pour one for Bucky, too, which he surprisingly accepts, even though it will have no effect on him. She opens the picnic basket to find what Steve apparently thinks is classic picnic food, sandwiches and an apple pie, but to be fair, she didn't exactly specify to him what she wanted. She grabs two paper plates and offers one to him.

"Are you working on Stark's case?" he asks, grabbing a sandwich from the basket.

"Officially, no. I can't work on sick leave." Pearl takes a swig from her glass before plating up a sandwich for herself. Romantic food it is not, but at least it's tasty, she thinks, biting into it.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "And unofficially?"

Pearl chuckles. "I might have sent a few emails here and there."

"Why didn't you become a lawyer? For whatever reason, you seem to enjoy it," Bucky asks, looking straight into her eyes. It's been a while since she's had to explain her career choices, but at least he knows enough about her to possibly understand and she won't have to lie about it.

"Philip died and, um," she begins. "Suddenly I just wasn't sure if I really wanted to go to law school or if I was just doing what everybody expected me to do."

With multiple lawyers in the family, Pearl always felt a strong connection towards the field. As a teenager, she used to type up case files in her father's office and didn't understand half of what she was writing, but the half she did understand, was enough to peak her interest, and seeing how happy it made her father and brother to find out her plans for law school was just icing on the cake.

Bucky's face does that cute scrunching thing it always does when he's confused. "That doesn't really sound like you."

Pearl smiles, because he's right. Philip dying mixed up her head completely and, combined with struggling through Administrative Law, made her think she wasn't cut out to be a lawyer. Made her think it wasn't her true passion, that she was just born into it and convinced herself to enjoy it. After his death, she wanted to live life to the fullest, never compromising herself, and didn't realize she had been doing that the whole time. Her family might have been happy when she went into law, but they never pushed her. For fuck's sake, Penny was a French major and never worked in their father's office. That should've been her first clue that she was, in fact, allowed to choose her own path.

"I know, it's not. I just had an existential crisis. Turns out I really did want to be a lawyer," she says.

"And you figured that out while being a CIA agent?" Bucky asks, taking a sip of his wine.

"No, actually, I loved that job. I never thought I wanted to go back to law," Pearl says and stops to think for a minute. It was a great job and while she was there, it felt like she'd found her rightful place. And she knows Philip would've been proud of her no matter what, so she's got no regrets. "But then I almost sued them and then Tony started this thing and it feels..."

She tries to think of the right word, but he's quicker. "Right?"

Pearl nods. Right now, she doesn't have any plans for the future, because she wants to be here with Bucky, helping him, but maybe someday she could see herself going back to law, with or without Tony's help.

"Have you had any more nightmares?" Pearl asks, thinking it's probably best to change the subject until he starts asking how long she plans on working for the Avengers or something. Bucky shakes his head, his mouth full of the sandwich. "That's good."

"It is. But I'm still trying to adapt-" Bucky says before pausing. "Are you sure this is what you want to talk about on our date?"

"Absolutely. I don't want to spend my nights pretending that the stuff we talk about during the day doesn't exist," Pearl says, like it's obvious, because it should be. She signed up for the whole deal, issues and all. She doesn't want to separate the romantic moments from reality. "Besides, we haven't really been talking lately and I want to know how you're doing."

They've been too busy doing normal people stuff to really continue dealing with Bucky's baggage. Bucky has been wanting to catch up on history, learn new technology and generally just become more knowing about the world around him. Pearl suspects it's because of Steve, as Bucky still has a hard time opening up to him, and he's not exactly wearing a bell around his neck so they'd hear him coming and he has a tendency of just appearing out of nowhere.

He rubs the back of his neck. "I think I'm getting better, but everyday I'm reminded of something I did and then I feel bad for forgetting it."

Pearl reaches over to grab his hand. He drops the other one as she looks him in the eyes, so she grabs that, too. "You're never going to forget your past, but you shouldn't feel bad if it's not in your thoughts every second of every day. You'll always feel guilty, because you're you, but it'll get easier to live with."

"Last night, I was excited about this date, and I still am, but there's a small part of me that thinks I don't deserve this," he says, sounding doubtful.

"See, that's where our thought process is different," Pearl says with a big smile, trying to cheer him up. "You think you don't deserve nice things because of the horrible things you've done and I think you absolutely deserve nice things because of the horrible things that have been done to you."

As she squeezes on his hands, his expression becomes softer again. "I like your way of thinking."

"You're totally free to borrow it."

After their succesful picnic date, that covers just about everything from school memories to the current political situation with some dirty flirtation mixed in, Bucky walks Pearl back to her room. She opens the door and goes to turn on the lamp on her nightstand, revealing that her bedroom at the facility is almost as big as her apartment back in Brooklyn. Bucky leans on the door frame with his hand.

Pearl takes off her shoes and throws them onto the armchair in the corner, or at least that's what she tries to do, but her drunken aim isn't all that great. At least one of the shoes ends up on the chair, while the other one rolls under it. Moving her hips seductively from side to side, she walks over to Bucky and places her hand over his, sliding it down his arm. "You wanna come in?"

"Absolutely."

Pearl grabs Bucky by the collar of his shirt, pulling him into the room, highly determined to have this tall piece of man candy right up against her body. Running her fingers down his chest, she looks up and sees his eyes lingering on her cleavage, clearly enjoying the view before realizing he's been caught. As his cheeks flush, she can't resist planting a kiss on his lips, lightly tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. He grabs onto her hips, pulling her in even closer, and she feels his warm breath on her skin. It makes her tremble. His nose grazes on her cheek as his slightly chapped lips make their way onto hers. Every breath between them feels like a million years until he finally kisses her. The kiss is wet, hot, aggressive and tastes like cheap wine and lust, exactly what she hoped for when she decided not to wear lipstick tonight.

Still liplocked, Pearl wraps her hands around his neck and lightly caresses the nape of it with her fingertips. Her soft touch is clearly enough to push him over some kind of a metaphorical edge and he lets out a small groan as his hands make their way under her dress and onto her thighs, picking her up with ease. She wraps her legs around him, squeezing him tightly between them, and breaks free from the kiss for a moment to breathe.

Bucky looks up at her, his eyes burning with desire, and carries her closer to the bed. She cups his face with her hands, ready to violently smash her mouth against his again, but somehow gets lost staring into his eyes, and it's the weirdest feeling. She's seen men in this position before, their eyes full of lust and their pants ready to rip at the seams, but there's something different about him. He's not trying to rip off her clothes. He's not grabbing her ass or licking her neck or burying his face against her breasts. He's not even asking her why she's stopped.

He's just looking at her like she's looking at him. His eyes are full of want, but his expression is soft and warm. There's no confusion, there's no rush. Whatever it is, that look, it makes him even sexier to her, but just as she's about to drown him in a sea of kisses, he opens his mouth.

"Should we stop?" he asks, tilting his head to the right, his tone somehow full of worry.

"What, why?" Pearl asks, completely taken back as he sets her back down. It was just going so well and why would he think they should stop? Did she seem hesitant when she was trying for the exact opposite? Did she stare at him for too long?

Bucky grabs her chin and leans in. He smiles. "You're drunk."

Oh. So he's just a gentleman.

"I'm not that drunk," Pearl says, shaking her head, because she really isn't. She wanted to do this even before she got drunk, and she remembers wanting to do this, so her drunkenness really shouldn't factor into this decision, because clearly, it's a non-issue. She twirls her finger around the button on his pants before grinning and running her hands up to his chest. "Besides, I'm easy when I'm drunk."

Bucky tracks the movement of her fingers with his eyes while his teeth drag across his bottom lip. Pearl pushes him down onto the bed. It makes a creaking sound as he collapses on top of it. She rips off her pantyhose and throws them in the general direction of her nightstand. They land on top of her lamp.

"Come on, Sergeant Barnes." She climbs on top of him, straddling him between her thighs. She leans in to his ear while stroking his neck and whispers. "Be bad."

She kisses him, biting back a moan as his eager response sends a jolt through her body. Her fingers make their way to the buttons on his shirt, beginning to open them one by one. His breathing is heavy as he watches with anticipation, resting his hands on her waist.

Pearl stops, pushing her hair behind her ears and decides to tease him a little. She tries, badly, to hide the mischievous smile on her lips. "Unless you want to wait. It's not the 1940's anymore, but you're an old-fashioned guy and I can totally-"

She's interrupted by Bucky's lips on hers, which is fine, because the end of the sentence would've been a lie anyway. She unbuttons the final button on his shirt, enjoying the view it reveals, and places a trail of kisses around his collarbone, feeling his hips grinding underneath her. He reaches around to open the zipper on her dress. Lifting the dress over her head and throwing it aside, he reveals her carefully picked out black lace lingerie. There's something very unfair about the fact that he's almost completely clothed while she's practically naked, but he's probably been celibate a hell of a lot longer than she has, so maybe that evens it out.

As his right hand strokes her thigh, and his eyes map out every inch of her body, Pearl notices his metal arm just resting beside him awkwardly, like he's trying not to touch her bare skin with it or something. The thought of him trying to be such a gentleman makes her laugh, but she contains it to the inside of her head. She picks up and runs his cold, solid, bionic hand up her stomach before letting go right at the edge of her bra. The feel of the cold metal against her skin makes her shiver, and fortunately, his hand does exactly as she hopes and keeps moving upward, while his other hand travels up to her neck, pulling her down for a kiss.

Pearl unbuttons his pants, but as she starts pulling down the zipper, she suddenly realizes she's left all her condoms in her bag, that just happens to be on the couch in the living room, and has to put the whole situation on hold, much to Bucky's dismay, to retrieve them. She might be drunk and she might be a slut by many definitions, but she's not about to start having unprotected sex, so she tells the disgruntled supersoldier that good things come to those who wait, all the while cursing at herself for remembering to put on nice underwear and shave all the necessary parts and then forgetting something as essential as condoms. She throws on a burgundy sweatshirt and tiptoes her way to the living room, hoping nobody sees her, but of course she stumbles right in the middle of what appears to be Steve's movie night. Damn it. Pearl really thought he'd be in bed by now.

Steve, sitting on the couch just a few feet from her bag, hears her coming and quickly turns his head to see who it is. "Hey."

Pearl mumbles something in response as he snaps right back to the movie. Clearly, he didn't notice her outfit, or lack of one, really.

"I'm watching Star Wars. Have you seen this?" Steve asks, grabbing a handful of popcorn from a bowl on the weird metal coffee table.

"I think everybody's seen it except you," Pearl says and decides to try and retrieve her bag without Steve really noticing. Not because she would be embarrassed to be seen without pants, she wears less clothing to the beach, after all, but because it's Steve, and besides just the outfit, her whole appearance tells the story of what was just going on in her room, and Steve doesn't really need to know all that.

She holds on to the edge of her sweater, pulling it down so it covers as much as possible, and sits down onto the other side of the couch. She begins to edge her way towards her bag, hoping Steve will stay fixated on the movie. In her drunken mind, her plan is excellent.

"I can start over, if you guys want to join," he says.

Pearl stops and almost wants to hold her breath. She should've just gone back to get more clothes, because this is beginning to resemble a suicide mission. "I think we'll pass."

"Alright. How was your date?" Steve asks, pausing the movie, and turns to face her. His eyes go from her messy hair to her sweater and to her bare legs, before landing on her face. She can feel her already flushed cheeks turning even brighter. His expression is somewhere between highly confused and extremely flustered.

"It's kind of still going on," Pearl says and quickly grabs her bag. She jumps up from the couch, holding her handbag in front of her legs like it covers something. He can't seem to find the words to respond. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, Steve. Have a good night and thank you, again, for all your help."

Pearl hurries back to her room, trying to stop herself from laughing at the absurdity of what just happened, to find Bucky, still laying on her bed. He has removed his shoes and socks and placed them neatly by the bed.

"What took you so long?" he asks.

"I, uh, it's not important."

Pearl takes off her sweater and slowly walks over to him, enjoying every second that his eyes spend undressing the rest of her, and places her bag by the bed for easy access.

"Now, where were we?" she asks, climbing back on top of him, running her hands up and down his chest, arching her back as his metal and flesh meet her thighs, her back, her lace covered breasts, making her gasp. Suddenly, his knee is between her legs, his hands are on her back and he's flipping her over, landing on top of her. Pinned under the weight of his body, his hand roughly grabbing both her wrists and bringing them over her head, she feels her breathing get shallow. As his lips devour her neck and the tips of his metal fingers play with the lacy edge of her panties, she moans out his name, desperately wanting him to rip them off.

It would be nice to say that their first time having sex is like a scene straight from a movie, but it's not. It's not like a beautifully choreographed dance, where their bodies move completely in sync, they both know exactly how to please one another and there's slow and sensual music playing in the background as they simultaneously orgasm and then lay there with the sheets covering their naughty bits, possibly smoking a cigarette, barely having broken a sweat. It's definitely not that.

But it's fucking amazing.

It's like a drop of water after being stuck in the desert for the longest time. Clothes scattered across the room, fingernails digging into skin. Hands grasping onto sheets for dear life, and the creaking of the bed masked by the panting breaths of the sweaty bodies on top.

He's in control, but only because she lets him.


	17. The Girl Is Impossible

****CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
**** **THE GIRL IS IMPOSSIBLE**

* * *

It's been approximately a month since Bucky Barnes met Pearl Palmer, but for Bucky, it feels like he's know her forever. He has absolutely no idea what her favorite color is or if she's allergic to anything. He doesn't know where she spent her summers as a child and he hasn't yet found out what her favorite food is. He learns new things everyday.

But he knows her.

He knows she feels something for him. It's evident by the way she treats him, by the way she holds his hand, by the way she talks to him and, most recently, by the fact that she's lying in his arms, almost nude. She feels something for him, and he thinks it's probably similar to what he feels for her, but actually getting her to talk about it has, so far, been a futile attempt. Somehow, she always seems to avoid the subject, whether it's by making a joke, changing the subject or just by pointing out all the problems brought up by their relationship. And it's fine, because he knows she's much more fragile than she seems. Much more vulnerable than she lets on. According to Natasha, Pearl is afraid Bucky will break her heart.

He knows her, so he doesn't want to push her into anything. He doesn't want to make her admit to having any feelings, if she's not ready. But he wants to tell her he has no intention of breaking her heart. He wants to share his feelings, because that's what he's been doing this whole month regarding his past, and he doesn't want to keep anything bottled up. He wants to tell her how much she means to him. How he misses her when she's not there. How broken he would've been had she died. And how it's not just because she came into his life and fixed him. How he wishes he would've met her under completely different circumstances. It doesn't even matter how she responds, he just wants to tell her.

She's the one person he can tell everything to. Everything except this one thing, because she won't let him. The irony doesn't escape him.

Curled up right beside him, her pale legs over his body, her head on his chest, she's only wearing panties. They're black, made of lace. Her hair is a curly mess and her eyes are smudged black. She's beautiful, even when she's not perfectly done up. Maybe even more so. The morning light shines in from between the curtains and, for a moment, Bucky feels normal. He's just a guy, lying in bed with his girl on a Saturday morning. He wants this moment to last.

His wish turns out to be short-lived, when he hears the most annoying sound in the world. It's a beep. A very loud, continuous beep. A siren, really. Upon hearing the sound, Pearl grabs the comforter that's laying next to her and wraps herself into it, nuzzling her head under his arm.

"What the hell is that?" Bucky asks, trying to locate the sound.

"It's my alarm." Her answer is groggy and she doesn't even open her eyes.

"Alarm? As in alarm clock?" he asks, looking around. He doesn't see an alarm clock on her nightstand, but the sound seems to be coming from that direction.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why does it sound like a fire alarm?" Bucky props himself up to see that the only thing on her nightstand appears to be her phone. Her phone, that has lit up and seems to be moving on its own.

Pearl pulls the comforter over her head. "It's the only thing that wakes me up."

"Yes, it seems to work well," he says, a little amused by the situation, considering her eyes are still closed. He reaches over her to grab the phone, only to look at it in complete confusion. "How do I turn this thing off?"

"Just swipe it to the right," Pearl mumbles from under the covers.

Swipe what? How? What the hell is she talking about?

"What?"

"Oh my God, you have to learn how to use a phone," Pearl says, sitting up on the bed, and grabs the phone from his hand. Just like that, the annoying sound stops. Bucky sighs in relief.

"Why? I never leave this place and I don't know anybody outside of it. Who would I call?" he asks, looking at her slightly annoyed but adorable face.

"Well, it's not just a phone, it can do other stuff too." Pearl holds out the phone in front of them as Bucky looks on with confusion. "Like this."

He looks over to the phone and sees something moving on the screen. He leans in closer. "Is that my face?"

"Smile," she says, nodding towards the phone, and he doesn't really understand why he would need to smile but manages to flash his pearly whites into the general direction of the phone, though it makes him feel extremely silly. The phone makes a sound resembling the shutter sound of a camera.

"It's a camera?" Bucky asks, making Pearl laugh.

"And there you go." She passes him the phone and gets up from the bed. On the screen, a picture of the two of them glows bright. Her shoulders are bare while the rest of her is covered by the comforter. Her hair still a mess and she's looking at him with a huge smile on her lips. He's bare chested and smiling at the camera with some confusion in his eyes. His hair is a shaggy mess, sticking up towards the ceiling. The picture is not posed, it's just a moment caught on film. Or, judging from the size of the device, possibly some sort of micro film.

"That's a really good photo," he says, still staring at the picture on the screen. Suddenly, it goes black.

Pearl gathers up her clothes from around various corners of the room. She comes over and does something to the phone that makes the picture appear again. She looks at it and then at Bucky with a cocked eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yes. You're gorgeous," he responds, because it's true. She rolls her eyes and he knows she's probably heard it millions of times before, but he doesn't care. She should always be called beautiful, whether she believes he really means it or not. Pearl walks over to the bathroom, leaving Bucky, once again, staring at the screen.

It's more than just a good picture to him. It captures the moment he never wanted to end, the one where he's just a guy and she's just a girl.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Pearl shouts out from the bathroom before appearing at the doorway. "You're free to join me, if you want."

And it's at that moment Bucky realizes she's still naked. He looks up to see her standing there with a questioning look and a hand on her lace covered hip, like it's the most normal thing in the world to just stand in front of him, in the nude. Maybe it is. It's not like she has anything to be ashamed of when it comes to her body, but she's definitely different from the chaste and proper girls of the 1940's.

Noticing the surgical scar from where the bullet entered, he shudders, but doesn't let her notice. He knows she doesn't like him thinking about the shooting too much, but letting it go, as she says, has not been easy for him. She's right, he knows she's right, killing the agents wouldn't solve anything. It won't undo what they did to her and it definitely won't undo anything they've done to him, but he can't seem to find it in him to be objective about the matter. It's not easy for him like it seems to be for her. He pushes the thought out of his mind again and gives her a little smirk. He gets up from the bed, throwing the phone onto it, and follows her into the bathroom.

They step into the shower, and Pearl turns on the water. It starts falling from the huge shower head above them, like rain. Bucky watches as Pearl runs her hands through her hair and over her face, stopping to rub on her eyes, and he notices something he didn't see before. Her wrists, her lovely little dainty wrists, are blue and purple all over.

"Did I do that?" he asks, fearing he already knows the answer.

She lets go of her eyes, opening them, and gives him a look of confusion. "What?"

He points to her left wrist. She looks at it, turning it around a little and looks back at him. "Oh, I guess you did."

"I'm so sorry," Bucky says, wondering how Pearl didn't scream out from pain as the bruising took place. Something about his face makes her laugh, but she stops quickly as he is not exactly getting what's so funny.

Pearl takes a step closer to him, their naked bodies merely inches away from each other, and looks up at him with a seductive smirk. "Trust me, you have nothing to be sorry about."

She's definitely not a chaste and proper girl of the 1940's, and that's just one of the many reasons he likes her, but also one of the many reasons she confuses him on a daily basis. There's something very wrong about the fact that her wrists are bruised because of him, as he does not want to hurt her, but the way she's looking at him and the suggestive tone of her voice almost make him forget all about it as his eyes wander back down her naked body.

After their shower, they get dressed and head over to the kitchen for breakfast. Passing through the living room, they are greeted by a very strange sight.

Steve is asleep on the couch. It's strange, because he's usually up by six at the latest and the clock is about to be nine. Pearl gives Bucky a funny look before going to tap Steve's shoulder.

"Steve?" she asks softly.

Steve slowly opens his eyes, looks at the two of them and gets up to sit on the couch, rubbing his eyes. He glances at the clock on the wall and a wave of shock and horror flows over his face as he realizes the time. Pearl laughs.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asks.

"Yes, please," Steve says with a nod, but as Pearl begins to make her way towards the kitchen, he appears to remember something. "No, wait! You're not allowed in the kitchen."

"Bucky, would you please tell Steve I've decided to ignore everything he says from now on?" Pearl says without even turning back and disappears behind the wall.

"Sorry, pal," Bucky says as Steve shakes his head.

"I've just about given up on that girl of yours, Buck. She's impossible."

"Yeah, she really is." Bucky can't help but smile. Impossible. It's the perfect word to describe Pearl, really. She's impossible to understand and impossibly stubborn at times, yet it's impossible not to fall for her.

"She's not really your type, though," Steve says and rubs his neck while cringing. Bucky makes a mental note not to fall asleep on the couch. "And I mean that in the best possible way, because the girls you used to take out..."

"They didn't have more than one thought between them," Bucky says.

Steve laughs. "No, they did not."

To be fair to those girls, it was a different era and they weren't expected to amount to anything beyond homemakers. Steve's Peggy was a whole other story, but women like her were a rarity.

"But you two... It's getting serious?" Steve asks in such a casual way, that it transports Bucky seventy years back in time. There's joy in his eyes, instead of worry and terror. It's nice. It's normal.

"You know me, Steve. I don't do serious," Bucky says with a grin, just like he used to, except this time he doesn't mean it.

"Uh-huh, right."

Steve knows he's lying, of course, mostly because he's really bad at lying to Steve and kind of because he's not really even trying. The old Bucky did not do serious relationships and while the new Bucky is really leaning towards trying it out, he's not really sure if he wants to discuss it with Steve. Maybe later, once he gets confirmation that she's actually serious, too.

"Any news on HYDRA?" Bucky asks, changing the subject and realizing it's possible Steve knows what went on in Pearl's room last night. He can only hope the walls are soundproofed.

Steve leans over to pick up his phone from the coffee table. He shrugs. "There's been no activity."

"None?"

"They might have disintegrated for good," Steve says.

"I find that hard to believe." Bucky really wants to, but they were thought to be gone before and that didn't turn out so well.

"Me too, but at the moment it sure seems that way." Steve's focused on his phone now, his finger tapping at the screen at a rapid pace.

"Does that mean you'll let me out soon?" Bucky asks, grabbing his attention again.

Steve's brow furrows. "We'll talk about that later."

Later. Later is fine, it's certainly better than never or just simply changing the subject. Bucky knows he could just leave, since there's really not much Steve could do to stop him, but he doesn't. It used to be Bucky's job to keep Steve out of trouble, so the least Bucky can do is allow him to return the favor. He'll come around eventually.

"Coffee's ready!"

The sound of Pearl's voice from the kitchen interrupts Bucky's thoughts and he remembers a promise he once made. He can only hope Steve's 'later' is sooner rather than, well, later. Bucky really doesn't like breaking promises.


	18. Alberto's

****CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
**** ** **ALBERTO'S****

* * *

In college, Pearl and her roommate used to spend their Fridays drinking and their Saturdays watching movies on the couch, wrapped up in blankets. Occasionally Pearl had somebody to wrap up with while her roommate lived a life of virtue and claimed to be above petty things like relationships, love and sex. In reality, she was just such an unpleasant person, that nobody wanted to date her.

Six years later, she finds herself in the exact same situation, except Pearl's not hungover, Steve's not an angry art student who can't get laid, and Bucky's not just some guy from Economics 101, so it's really not exactly the same, but it's close enough to bring back the memories of how Pearl used to wish her roommate would just go and take pictures of broken glass or whatever else art students do, so she could get felt up under the covers instead of having to listen to the continuous commentary about how sexism is still rampant in Hollywood.

But the weird thing is, she's not annoyed by Steve. Even though he picks the movie and then proceeds to talk during it. Even though she really does want to get felt up under the blanket. Even though he's hogging all the popcorn. He's actually kind of entertaining, especially when he realizes Inglorious Basterds isn't quite the realistic portrayal of events transpiring during World War II he was expecting it to be.

"Why is modern cinema so full of violence?" he asks as the credits roll.

"Didn't you like it?" Pearl asks, sitting up straight and stretching. She thinks being curled up under Bucky's arm for the duration of the movie was lovely, but her back doesn't seem to agree.

Steve shrugs. "I did, actually. I was just wondering."

"You know who I think would've really liked this movie?" Pearl asks.

"Who?"

"Sam," Pearl says with a smile. Steve doesn't reply. He turns his head back to the screen. "Maybe you should call him."

Steve leaves the room without a word. Bucky, unwrapping himself from the blanket he's been under, watches as his best friend disappears behind the corner. "I've never seen Steve like that before."

Pearl smiles widely. "Don't worry. I don't give up."

She's definitely not giving up. This whole fight has lasted for too long and she plans on making it stop, just as soon as she figures out how, because it's a stupid fight over a stupid thing, that everybody else has moved on from, and they're not even really fighting since they're not even talking.

Bucky leans in to kiss her, grabbing her by the chin. He tastes like Milk Duds and his lips feel, well, actually, they could use some lipbalm, but the kiss is nice and soft, anyway. Steve and Sam cease to exist in her mind the very instant his lips come into contact with her ear and his intoxicating breath runs chills through her spine. The movie might be over, but the action is certainly just beginning.

The next day, Natasha calls, inviting Pearl to lunch and Pearl finds herself torn with options. She could stay at the compound and continue lounging around in the most comfortable clothing ever created without a stitch of makeup on (not counting the done up eyebrows, the subtle mascara on her lashes, her perfectly shine-free complexion or the bubblegum scented pink balm on her lips) and possibly order in pizza, or she could get dressed, do her face and her hair, and go out into the world she's been deprived from seeing for over a week now.

It turns out to be a much easier choice than expected, as Pearl finds herself telling Natasha to pick her up in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes is barely enough time to pick a full outfit, let alone do anything else, but when presented with an escape, Pearl finds herself capable of the impossible. Exactly thirty-three minutes later, she's at the door, waving goodbye to the guys, dressed simply in all black. Black jeans, a black top and the black leather jacket Natasha once sold her for ten bucks and has been bitter about ever since, claiming it wasn't a legitimate sale on the count of both parties being drunk off their asses, but Pearl still maintains it looks better on her, anyway.

Getting into Natasha's car, a black sporty looking thing that matches Pearl's outfit perfectly, she's met with a sour look hidden behind a fake smile.

"I like your jacket," Natasha says through her teeth. Pearl isn't exactly sure if it's an attempt at humor or just Nat's old grudge rearing its ugly head again. She laughs, because it seems to fit with either option. The smile on Natasha's lips reaches the rest of her face as she rolls her eyes and lets out a little scoff.

As Natasha drives off the property, Pearl buckles her seat belt. "Can we go by my place? I want to water my plants."

Natasha glances over. "You don't have plants."

"Right. Can we go anyway?" Pearl asks. She probably could've come up with a better excuse, now that she really thinks about it. She could've said she needed to check her mail, and it wouldn't have even been a lie. Or she could've just told the truth.

"You've basically been living at the compound for like a month and now that you _actually_ live there, you're suddenly homesick?" Natasha asks.

"Well, yeah, pretty much."

That truth. Her apartment may be small, in horrible condition and never the right temperature, but it's home and she misses it. Living with Bucky (and Steve, Wanda and everybody else, for that matter) has been fine. Nice, even. But it's too much too soon. And Natasha's absolutely right, Pearl has almost been living there from the moment she walked in the first time, but only almost. She's used to going home every night and she kind of needs that.

"Fine, we'll go after lunch."

Natasha drives them to one of Pearl's favorite restaurants, a dingy but charming little place in Little Italy. It's so small it can only fit four tables that are all so close together they're practically one big table, but it doesn't really matter since three of them are always empty, anyway; Pearl thinks it just adds to the charm. As they enter the restaurant, they're met by the most authentic scent of Italian cooking and the owner of the place, Alberto: a man who truly looks like he could star in a completely politically incorrect commercial for frozen lasagna with his bushy eyebrows, a mustache to match, a big smile on his face and splotches of tomato sauce on his apron.

"Ciao, Perla!" he shouts out from behind the counter and hurries over. "Come sta?"

"Bene, grazie," Pearl replies as he pulls out a chair for her. She sits down and he shuffles over to seat Natasha. "Ti ricordi della mia amica Natasha?"

"Sì, sì! Ciao, bella!" Alberto says, nodding along enthusiastically, and gets Natasha to crack a smile. He grabs two menus from the side table for them.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't actually remember you," Pearl says and laughs after Alberto leaves them to ponder their orders.

"Probably not. It's been a few years, at least." Natasha surveys the place around her, as if to see if it's changed.

It hasn't changed at all, actually, unless you count the lamp, that was broken the last time Natasha visited, but has since been fixed. It only took Alberto three months to get around to it. As Natasha reads through the menu, that also hasn't changed, Pearl looks around the restaurant, trying to figure out why she hasn't been there for months, when she used to frequent the place all the time, but luckily, Alberto doesn't seem to mind. He takes their orders, chatting away in Italian about how he had to switch to a different butcher, how he's going to his niece's wedding next week, and how his oldest son is starting to get ready to settle down and how he knows Pearl hasn't had the best experiences with Italian men, but maybe she would like his number anyway. Pearl laughs and tells him she's currently off the market. Natasha nods along, clearly not understanding more than three words, and smiles politely.

Alberto leaves and Natasha leans in over the table. "So, you've been busy, I hear."

Busy? If you could call being basically stuck on bed rest 'busy', then yeah, sure, she's been busy. Pearl scrunches up her nose. "Could you be even more vague?"

"You and Bucky." Natasha looks at Pearl from under her brows, her eyes drilling in and a little grin creeping up on the corner of her mouth, and there's no longer any question as to what she's talking about.

"Do you have cameras in my room?" Pearl asks and unfolds her utensils from the napkin they're wrapped in.

"Steve told me," Natasha replies casually, like it's no big deal. Like she and Steve talk about Pearl and Bucky all the time.

"You talked to Steve about my sex life?" Pearl asks in a hushed tone to keep Alberto out of the conversation

Natasha tilts her head to the side. "Steve told me about your little trip to the living room. I put two and two together."

Right. It did seem a little far-fetched to think about Steve gossiping about this particular subject. It actually seems a bit far-fetched to think about Steve gossiping about anything. The guy is like a walking, talking billboard for exemplary behavior.

Natasha's lip curls up into a mischievous smile. "How was it?"

Pearl crosses her arms. "You just want to live vicariously through me, because your boyfriend is still missing."

"He's not my-," Natasha begins before clearing her throat. She leans back again, avoiding eye contact. "Never mind, don't tell me."

"Oh, I didn't say I wouldn't tell you," Pearl says, actually dying to talk about the subject. It's just weird to have Natasha so interested, because she's usually much more of the "oh my God, Pearl, I don't need to know all this" type. But it's fun. Pearl motions for Natasha to lean back in. "Imagine... Going without food for four months and then being given a slice of chocolate cake, except the cake is this beautifully built hunk of a man. And he's naked. And you're naked. And then you rub that cake all over yourself."

Natasha laughs. "You lost me."

It's one of those laughs where Pearl can't tell if Natasha's being serious or not, but she thought her cake analogy was pretty clever. A little rough and not completely thought out, but enough to make a point without having to use really crude words that might attract unwanted attention in the form of a husky Italian man.

"I mean he was just... I didn't expect him to be so..." Pearl has trouble finding the words. She grins. "It was really good."

After lunch, as promised, they go by Pearl's apartment. Walking up the stairs, all hopes Pearl had about sneaking in undetected vanish as soon as she hears the very familiar creaking sound of the blue door that leads to apartment 6F, the one down the hall from hers. The one with the crazy old lady who can't seem to mind her own business.

"Hello, Mrs Huffman. How are you?" Pearl asks in her most pleasant tone as Mrs Huffman appears at the door in a purple bath robe, but doesn't stop walking and instead heads straight for her own door.

"I've been sleeping soundly, now that there's been less noise in the building," Mrs Huffman replies, suspiciously eyeing Natasha from head to toe. She turns back to Pearl. "Speaking of, where have you been?"

"I was shot in the chest," Pearl says while rummaging through her bag to find her keys before realizing Mrs Huffman doesn't actually know anything about her life and is under the impression that Pearl works as a domestic flight attendant.

"Do you think that's funny?" the old lady crosses her arms in a huff. Natasha's leaning on the wall, following the exchange with great interest.

Pearl shakes her head and looks at her neighbor with the most apologetic and regretful look she can manage. "No, Mrs Huffman, I don't."

"You've missed all the big news around here," Mrs Huffman says gleefully as Pearl finally finds her keys, tangled up with her key card from the compound.

"Yeah, what's that?" Pearl asks absentmindedly as she struggles to open her annoying door, thinking maybe the couple on the first floor are having another kid or maybe Eddie has finally grown up and gotten a job, though just the thought of that happening makes Pearl laugh, or maybe the cat that went missing from the fifth floor has appeared again. Whatever it is, it clearly has nothing to do with the doors that keep jamming no matter how many times people complain about them.

"The building's going co-op."

"What?"

"Isn't it nice?" Mrs Huffman says in that viciously evil, yet sweet sounding voice, that old ladies do so well. She's been waiting for this for years, as going co-op will surely force the unwanted material out of the building. Unwanted material like Pearl or basically anyone with a social life.

"Yeah, super."

The door finally gives in and Pearl and Natasha step inside. Pearl quickly shuffles through the mail she picked up in the lobby and finds a really official looking letter from the building manager. She rips it open and, glancing through it, comes to the realization that the mean old lady was, in fact, telling the truth and not just trying to freak her out.

"Oh, fuck," Pearl says, placing the letter on her table, and sits down, burying her face in her hands. Natasha sits down opposite her and picks it up.

As Natasha reads through it, Pearl tries to process the information and how she feels about it. She never liked the apartment in the first place, it was just something she could afford at the time, and the thought of buying it seems completely ridiculous. She could probably afford it now that she's got her settlement money, and if she fixed it up, it would be a sound investment because the neighborhood is great and she could probably make a profit in a few years, and in theory, it's a good idea. But she doesn't want to buy it. She doesn't want to be stuck with it for any longer. In a way, the building going co-op is exactly the push she's been needing to leave it behind.

Pearl smacks her hands onto her knees, filled with a new found determination. "So, I've got three months to find a new place."

"Yeah. Unless you want to buy this?" Natasha asks, looking at the cracks on the ceiling, clearly trying to determine whether or not she should be sad that Pearl has to leave her home. She looks back over.

Pearl scoffs. "This rat hole? Yeah, right."

"Well, you're welcome to stay with us as long as you want," Natasha says.

"No way. I'm out of there as soon as my sick leave is officially over."

It's a nice offer, it really is, but Pearl never liked having roommates before and she doesn't particularly enjoy them now. Also, she doesn't want to be that girl. The girl that moves in with her boyfriend right after they start dating because she's homeless or whatever. The girl that goes from boyfriend to boyfriend just so she has a place to live. Pearl realizes she's kind of far from being that girl, but even still, she can't wait for next Thursday to roll around, so she can finally go see Doctor Mark and he can tell her she can start working again, because if she can work then Steve can't object to her leaving.

On Monday, Tony comes by to do something that doesn't really interest Pearl enough to ask what it is, but she's glad he's there because she's been wanting to talk to him for a few days now. When he comes by the living room, Pearl gets up from the couch and walks over swiftly so he doesn't have a chance to just say hello and then disappear, as he usually does.

"Can we talk?" she asks. She feels slightly under-dressed standing next to him, because he's wearing something that looks like another six-thousand dollar suit and she's dressed in Stark Industries lounge wear, again. There seems to be an endless supply of comfortable hoodies and sweatpants in the closet she has in her room, and they all feel like they've been made of clouds and cotton candy. Today, she's chosen to wear the burgundy set.

"What about?" he asks, not even taking his eyes off his smartphone.

Pearl waves her hand in front of his face and points down the hall. "Let's go into my office."

They walk a few doors down. Pearl opens the door to her small office and points to the chair opposite her desk. Tony glances over at it and then back at her with one eyebrow cocked, forcing her to do the pointing motion again. He sits down, eyeing his surroundings. Pearl takes her seat behind the desk and places her hands on the desk, intertwining her fingers like she's a serious business woman or a principal or the head nun at her old school. She tries for her best serious voice. "I would like to discuss the issue of my medical bills."

Tony's face scrunches up. "Why are you being so formal?"

"Because this is not a social call. This is business." Pearl maintains her composure, staring straight into his eyes. He's not weaseling his way out of this conversation again.

A smirk creeps up onto Tony's face. "Clearly, you and I do business very differently."

Pearl rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers. "Tony. Focus."

Tony clears his throat, crossing his arms. "What about your medical bills?"

As if he even has to ask. Pearl remains calm. "I would like to get the receipts, so I can make a plan to pay you back."

"You can make up any kind of plan you like, but I won't accept your money." His words are coated with the signature Tony Stark smugness. It irritates Pearl to no end.

"Why? What's in it for you?" she asks, exasperated.

"I like you, kid. That's rare for me."

The fact that there's not even a hint of sarcasm in his voice is somewhat alarming, but what he's saying isn't all that surprising. Natasha's said it before, after all, and she knows Tony better than Pearl.

"You barely know me," Pearl says. It doesn't really make a lot of sense. Sure, she's kind of one of those love or hate kind of people, but Tony really doesn't know her enough to do either. He definitely doesn't know her enough to go around spending tens or possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on her, even if it is just peanuts to him.

"I'm an exceptionally great judge of character." The signature smugness returns.

"And modest, too," Pearl says dryly. Tony laughs. "I don't want to be your charity case."

"You're not," he says without breaking eye contact.

"I don't want to feel like I owe you something," she says. She's not used to being handed things and nothing in this world comes without a price. Before, Tony handed her the opportunity to work as his lawyer and she took it, even though she didn't really earn it, then ended up shot, unable to continue. If anything like that happens again, she'll really begin to believe in karma. Or even if nothing bad happens, she'll always feel strange around him, like he owns her or something, and that's not really something she wants to associate with her boss. Or friend, for that matter.

"You don't." He sighs. "If you had been working for me a little longer, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Insurance would've covered it."

Pearl nods. "True."

"So, what's the big deal?" he asks.

First of all, pride. Second of all, karma. Third of all, weird feelings. Pearl raises an eyebrow. "You've always been rich, right?"

Tony nods.

"It shows." She can't help but smirk a little.

His brow furrows and he leans back in his chair a little, putting his hands behind his head. "Alright. I'll make you a deal."

Pearl waits keenly for his next words. This could either be a really good thing where he agrees to make up a payment schedule or it could just be him completely dismissing her legitimate concerns, again.

"You'll come work for me," he says.

"I already work for you." Pearl's nose crinkles up. Did he forget or something?

"Not here. At Stark Industries."

"And do what? Pearl asks.

Tony shrugs. "Work with my legal team. Do whatever they do and keep me out of trouble. Or make more money for me, I don't know."

This is beginning to feel like another one of those moments where she's being handed things she doesn't deserve, but she hopes to be wrong.

"And you'll deduct my debt out of my paycheck?" she asks.

Tony shakes his head. "Of course not."

Pearl sighs. "So this is just more charity?"

"No. We'll make it a three-year contract, I'll make you start from the bottom of the barrel, and by the end, you'll probably wish you would've just accepted the money. It's not going to be easy."

The idea of doing legal work excites Pearl, and though it's not exactly an ideal situation as she won't actually pay him back a cent, it's better than nothing and probably the most she's ever going to get out of him. At least for now. Maybe he'll be more willing to take her money in the future. Maybe she'll call the hospital and find out how much he paid and then buy an equivalent amount of Stark Industries stock. Maybe she'll do something really cool and lucrative on the job and she'll get to feel like the debt's been paid.

Tony looks like he's expecting an answer, so she extends her arm to shake his hand. "You're not really giving me many options here."


	19. No Fighting

****CHAPTER**** ** **NINETEEN  
**** ** **NO FIGHTING****

* * *

Sam calls Pearl on Monday night. It's not a long call, lasting barely five minutes, and it's not about anything important. It's really just Sam asking about good, affordable restaurants near Broadway, because he wants to take Mae to a show, but doesn't want to end up eating at an overpriced tourist joint, and Pearl giving him recommendations of such places. A little bit of catching up, a little laughing. A little fashion advice regarding outfits for a Broadway show and an agreement to definitely go out for lunch or something soon.

It's a completely normal phone call between two friends, but it seems to keep Steve glued to the edge of his seat, as he tries to appear as though he's not listening, when he's really perking up his ears, trying to hear.

"I can call him back, if you want," Pearl says after hanging up.

Steve shakes his head. "No need."

"Don't you miss him?" Pearl asks.

Steve doesn't answer.

"I know he's a part of your team and he messed up, but he's also your friend."

Still no answer.

It is at that moment Pearl decides she can't take it anymore. The situation with Steve and Sam has gone on too long, and she is sick and tired of it. Life is way too short to hold a grudge about something stupid like this. They're supposed to be a team, and while no major threat has presented itself in the past few weeks, one is bound to pop up eventually and they can't exactly work well together if they're acting like children. Steve's being a jerk and Sam's not even trying to make up. So, with her non-existent knowledge on how to deal with children, Pearl decides to do what her mother did approximately sixteen years ago.

Pearl was eleven. Penelope was sixteen. They had a big falling out about Pearl accidentally destroying a sweater Penny had gotten from her boyfriend. It was a really big deal at the time, and Penny was convinced Pearl hated her, didn't respect her property and, most importantly, hated her boyfriend, while Pearl couldn't fathom the idea of how a piece of fabric could be so freaking important and felt as though Penny was choosing her boyfriend over her family. Pearl tried to explain that it was an accident, but it didn't matter. She offered to buy Penny a new sweater, but she didn't want one. Penny went out and bought a huge padlock and used it to lock up the rest of her clothes. She hid all gifts she'd received from said boyfriend in one of dad's old suitcases and stuck that under her bed.

It was a grueling week of yelling and another grueling week of total silence, until their mom decided to end it. She moved Penny's bed into Pearl's room and said they were painting Penny's walls and the room couldn't be used for a week.

"Why can't I sleep in Pat's room?" Penny argued. Patrick being away at college, it seemed perfectly logical and was exactly the argument Pearl herself would've used, if she'd had the chance to speak first. Penny, as a teenager, was fairly quick to snap back.

Mom just smiled. "We're painting that, too. It'll be perfect for Philip."

"Pip has a room." Penny growled the words through her teeth, glancing at Pearl with a deadly stare.

"He's going to need more space. He's growing up so fast."

And that was it. No further arguments were allowed. Three days later, it was as if nothing had ever happened, except Penny's walls went from lavender to seafoam and Philip, age three, got the second biggest bedroom in the house. A week later, Penny and her boyfriend split up and she set fire to the gifts he'd given, making the whole fight seem even more pointless.

But, back in the present day, Pearl doesn't have three days. She's probably got a few hours, at most, if she can even convince Sam to come up to the compound and see Steve. And if she can convince Steve to stay in the same room. Guilt usually works, so that, combined with her perfect idea of hosting a party on Friday, should do the trick.

On Tuesday, Pearl meets with Sam at a Starbucks downtown. He's dressed nice and snazzy, clearly wearing a new pair of jeans and a gray sweater, though Pearl suspects it's probably not for her enjoyment. She pays for his drink and his bagel, hoping it'll soften him up.

"Sam, you have to come!" she pleads, having told him of her perfect idea and how it's bound to work.

Sam is not convinced. He sips on his coffee, looking at the sad expression she's giving him, and sighs. "I don't know, Pearl. I don't think it's such a good idea."

Not a good idea? What? Even if it wasn't a good idea, which it is, at least it's an idea. Pearl doesn't see Sam coming up with any of those, but she fights the urge to tell him that. She simply shrugs and tilts her head a little. "It'll give you and Steve a chance to reconcile."

"Or a chance to really start fighting," Sam says, rubbing the nape of his neck. His eyes keep glancing over to the window, to the table and to the dirty napkin on the floor next to them.

"No fighting at my party." Pearl frowns. A hint of a smile appears on Sam's lips. "Come on, Sam. You could bring your girlfriend."

Sam looks at her from under his brow, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe."

"Trust me, it'll be good. Steve will see you and remember how invaluable you are to him." Pearl tries to sound upbeat, but Sam is unresponsive. "Do it for me. Please?"

Sam blinks. Her pleading falls on deaf ears, so Pearl decides to harness the power of the guilt trip. She places her elbow on the table and leans her cheek against it. She lets her eyes wander around the place and sighs, deeply. "You know, I almost died."

From the corner of her vision, Pearl sees Sam roll his eyes.

"Fine," he says, reluctantly.

Friday night, with her plan in motion, Pearl begins setting up for the party.

"Did you clear this with Steve?" Bucky asks.

Pearl nods, focused on raiding the kitchen cabinets for the popcorn she could swear she bought two days ago. "I did."

Bucky mumbles something affirmative before leaving the kitchen. Pearl finally finds the popcorn, stuck behind a bag of quinoa. Literally thirty seconds later, Bucky comes back. "And he said _yes_?"

The questioning tone of his voice is enough to grab Pearl's attention. She looks over to see him standing there, leaning against the doorway, his eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Apparently he knows her too well already.

"Well, he didn't say no," Pearl says and flutters her eyelashes, making Bucky laugh and shake his head. He retreats back into the living room again.

In all honesty, asking Steve if she could have a party had been kind of a flop. Technically, Steve didn't say no. He didn't say yes, either. He didn't really say anything other than question Pearl's absolutely urgent need to throw a party and muttered something about maybe coming back to the idea later and how it just wouldn't be appropriate at the moment and how she should find other ways to occupy her time. He also brought up the fact that it isn't that long since she last threw a party, but he didn't say no. By the end of the conversation, Steve was happy that he had been consulted and under the impression that the idea had been put on the back-burner, and Pearl had decided to have her party anyway, since she'd already ordered food for it and everything.

Steve's loud voice coming from the door, interrupts Pearl's important task of gathering up all the liquor in the kitchen. "Pearl!"

She runs over, knowing full well what's going on. Alberto promised to deliver the food before eight and it is approximately thirty minutes past seven. Reaching the door, she sees the delivery guy standing there with what looks like three trays of tiny appetizers and Steve, who just looks like he's trying to breathe in and breathe out in order not to get worked up about the situation.

She gestures to the trays. "You can just take those in." The delivery guy steps through the door. Pearl points down the hallway. "The kitchen is to the right."

"What is this?" Steve asks, clearly annoyed, looking at the delivery van full of food and Pearl. He crosses his arms.

"I'm having a party. Remember, we discussed it?" Pearl says, placing a hand over Steve's arm, hoping to charm her way out of this. His brow furrows as he glances at it and then looks at her again. Pearl smiles and bats her eyelashes.

"I remember agreeing to maybe consider it. As in, in the future." The tone of his voice is dead serious, so Pearl decides to stop touching him.

"Okay, before you get mad, just hear me out," she says. "I could've actually died."

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"And I could still die. There's still a bullet in my lung that could just decide to explode," Pearl says, only slightly exaggerating.

Steve's eyes narrow and he shakes his head a little. "That's not really how bullets work."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is," Pearl says, rolling her eyes. She sighs dramatically. "Every day could be my last."

Steve's eyes relax again and he uncrosses his arms, throwing them to the side as if he's giving up. Pearl smiles the widest smile she can manage before skipping outside to get more food out of the van.

"Didn't you spend all of yesterday doing your nails?" Steve calls out after her. His tone is still serious, but turning around, Pearl sees him trying to keep from smiling.

She shrugs, her mouth still stuck in a permanent smile. "I want to have nice nails when I die."

Steve leaves, shaking his head, probably feeling annoyed with a little sprinkling of amusement thrown in, and Pearl continues her journey to the awesome scent of basil and olive oil coming from the van. She picks up a few pizza boxes and hands them off to the delivery guy, who happens to appear at just the right moment. He heads back inside, almost bumping into Wanda, who is quickly rushing out. Spotting Pearl outside, she stops.

"Where do you think you're going?" Pearl asks, eyeing Wanda's outfit. The scarlet jacket, knee boots and brown shoulder bag don't exactly look like party attire, and she'd so hoped for everyone to attend.

"Anywhere but here," Wanda says, her adorable Eastern European accent faintly coming through.

"You're not staying for the party?" Pearl asks.

"This is not a party. This is you trying to get Steve and Sam to make up," Wanda says and simply shrugs. "I don't see that ending well."

"Fine. I don't need your negativity anyway," Pearl says with a dry laugh. "Steve's wallet is on the coffee table if you need money."

Wanda pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket and waves it around, a hint of a smile forming on her lips.

For the party Pearl picks out a lovely black lace dress, with long sleeves and an almost respectable hemline, only three inches above her knees, and straightens her hair to tie it up into a high ponytail. She pairs the look with nude lips and dark eye makeup and somehow ends up looking like she's the fourth wife at the funeral of some rich old guy, but at least Bucky, who has spent a good hour just watching her get ready, seems to really enjoy it, as evident by the fact that he can't seem to keep his hands to himself.

His hands, and their journey all around that black lacy dress, are interrupted by the shock of the century as Tony is the first to arrive to the party. Hearing his hollering from the front door, Pearl springs up from the bed she's been thrown onto and tells Bucky to put some clothes on. She looks in the mirror, swipes on another coat of lipstick and smooths down her hair before running off to greet her first guest.

"Hey," she says joyfully, walking down the hallway.

Tony looks well put together, as always, and Pearl tries to imagine him in something other than a suit. It turns out to be an impossible task. As Pearl finally reaches him, the mimosa she had while getting ready decides to kick in and makes Pearl lean in for a hug, which clearly throws Tony off a little, but he reciprocates anyway. It's an awkward hug, kind of stiff and unnatural, and it makes Pearl realize drinking alcohol into an empty stomach is not the best idea. She has, of course, learned this lesson many times before—only to forget it again and again. She pulls away from him to see amusement written all over his face.

"Well, that was inappropriate," Pearl says and breathes out in a huff. "Fuck."

"I would expect nothing less from you." Tony's half smile doesn't falter.

"So, I'm officially not on sick leave anymore," Pearl says, determined to change the subject and move on from the weird decisions caused by that mimosa. "Do I start first thing Monday morning?"

"Don't you have something else planned for next week?" Tony asks, digging out his phone from his pocket.

"What?"

"I think I heard something about... Something," he responds absentmindedly, typing something. He glances at her confused face, barely registering it. "We'll talk later." He returns to the phone.

All the other guests arrive shortly after Tony. Natasha arrives with Clint, and Sam brings his girlfriend, Mae, and with her long legs, long black hair and skin that looks like melted butterscotch, she looks like she jumped straight off the pages of a Victoria's Secret catalog. She's the kind of girl everybody hopes is a complete bitch, so they're not too perfect, but Pearl has never really been the envious type. Luckily, Mae turns out to be really freaking nice, which is great, because Pearl only wants nice things to happen to Sam.

As everybody gathers in the living room, Sam puts on some music, and Pearl sends Bucky to go get Steve, who's been hiding in his room. Well, probably not hiding, but definitely avoiding this whole party situation. The two men emerge and Pearl is surprised to see Steve has actually put in some effort and is wearing a nice burgundy dress shirt and tan slacks. Bucky's wearing all black, because he wants to match Pearl's outfit, no matter how funeral like it may be. Steve acknowledges Sam's presence with a nod and introduces himself to Mae, because he's a gentleman and that's what gentlemen do.

"It's great to finally meet you. Sam's talked about you so much!" Mae says with a big smile, shaking Steve's hand. His serious face does a weird twitching thing. Pearl begins to wonder if Sam has told Mae what this party is actually all about and if he hasn't, maybe _she_ should've. Maybe she still should, at some point. Just to have an ally.

Steve decides to sit on the couch between Clint and Tony, keeping a bit of distance between him and Sam. Bucky pours everybody a drink, because he's nice like that, and brings in some of the food from the kitchen. He hands Pearl a drink and a plate of appetizers.

"You should eat something," he says, bending down to give her a little peck on the forehead, before seating himself across the table from her. Pearl grabs some bruschetta from the plate and feels her cheeks burning. There's something so adorable about how he's trying to take care of her and how he's watching her to make sure she actually eats. As she finishes off the bruschetta, he looks to be satisfied and grabs a plate of his own.

"Okay, now that everybody is finally here," Pearl says, glaring at Steve, "I just want to welcome you all to my," she pauses to think of an appropriate description of the party, "celebration of life."

She smiles, noticing Bucky looking at her with the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "As most of you know, I almost died recently and that made me realize I need to spend more time with my loved ones."

"Are we your loved ones?" Clint asks, completely interrupting the whole improvised speech with his un-gentlemanly behavior.

Pearl turns to the man next to her. "Yes, Clint. Especially you."

"I didn't realize you two knew each other," Tony says.

"She threw up in my car once," Clint says. Tony looks at Pearl with that same look of amusement again as Bucky lets out a chuckling sound. Natasha rolls her eyes and Steve still looks like somebody stole his teddy bear, sitting there with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, but I cleaned it up," Pearl says with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Clint laughs. "True."

"Anyway, uh, welcome, everyone." Pearl lifts up her drink and most of her guests follow her lead. She takes a sip before placing it on the coffee table. "Now, because we have a new person here and because I think we could all get to know each other better, I would like to play a little game."

"A game? Like truth or dare?" Tony asks, finally giving the party his full attention as he slips his phone back into his pocket.

"Kind of. It's called Never Have I Ever."


	20. Never Have I Ever

****CHAPTER TWENTY  
**** ** **NEVER HAVE I EVER****

* * *

Natasha does not want to play Never Have I Ever. This fact becomes apparent when she immediately shouts out a protest after Pearl's suggestion to play said game. It probably shouldn't come as a surprise to Pearl, because Natasha's never been that into the game — probably because she's not cool with sharing personal information—but unluckily for Nat, the game happens to be one of the only drinking games Pearl actually knows how to play.

"Do you know how many times I've played this with you?" Natasha tries to plead.

"Probably about every time we've gone out," Pearl says casually. Natasha may not share Pearl's enthusiasm for the game, but she'll just have to suffer through it. Pearl has a plan to execute, after all.

Tony nudges Natasha's elbow with his and winks. "Come on, Romanoff. Let the woman explain the rules."

"Okay, the objective of the game is simple. One person says a statement, like for example, never have I ever been to Florida, and if you have been to Florida, you drink. The only rule is you can't lie."

"Is there a winner to this game?" Tony asks.

Pearl shrugs. "If you get everybody else to drink, you win."

It's not really an official rule, since it's just something she made up to have a natural way to end the game as they can sometimes go on for a very long time with nobody wanting to end them. Even with this rule, the game can go on for ages, because nobody actually wants to win, they just want to play. It's always the most fun for the people who haven't done anything exciting to watch other people drink and tell, possibly embarrassing, stories. In those situations, depending on the crowd, all Pearl has to do is figure out something everyone else has done, and she wins, thus ending the game. Like, if she were playing with a bunch of men, saying she's never peed standing up would automatically make her the winner.

Pearl looks over to Mae. "Is our newbie brave enough to start?"

Mae nods. "Never have I ever... Lived anywhere besides New York."

As Pearl lifts her glass up to her lips, she sees everybody but Mae do the same.

"That was fast. Thank God," Natasha says. Pearl glares at her.

"I'm sorry," Mae says, looking around at the amused faces. "We can play another round."

Everybody agrees, even Natasha, and Pearl points to Sam to begin the round.

Sam ponders for a second before leaning back on his chair. He looks smug. "Never have I ever been to a strip club."

Some people use Never Have I Ever to learn as much embarrassing information about people as they can, and others use it to make themselves look better in front of people—such as new girlfriends—and some people know how to do the latter without being completely obvious. Sam doesn't.

Tony drinks, obviously. Pearl drinks, earning a raised eyebrow and slight curved lip from Bucky's direction. Natasha shrugs and takes a sip, and Clint takes a swig but defends himself by saying he was dragged into one at his bachelor party. Sam looks around, not really surprised by any of it until Mae brings her drink up to her mouth and takes a sip of the yellow cocktail. The expression on his face is that of pure shock, though he tries his best to hide it. Mae simply smiles sweetly.

"Never have I ever played this game before," Bucky says on his turn. Pearl chuckles inside her head at his innocence. Steve and Tony are the only ones who don't drink. Pearl shoots Tony a look, one of those questioning looks with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Out of all the people at her party, he's the last one she would've expected not to have played before.

He shrugs. "I graduated MIT at seventeen, kid. I didn't exactly spend a lot of time playing college drinking games."

Tony turns his attention to Natasha, who ponders her turn for a second, glaring at Pearl.

"Never have I ever slept with my boss," she says and watches in delight as Pearl takes a sip. She just loves to use that line, and even in the company of people who already know the story, Pearl feels all eyes on her.

Pearl rolls her eyes. "Well, everybody knew I was going to drink. Why aren't we all staring at Clint?"

Clint, caught off guard by attention suddenly being drawn to him, clears his throat. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone to notice him subtly pouring some beer down his throat, or at least not to bring it up, but nothing goes unnoticed by Pearl. Not in this game. She stares at him, one eyebrow cocked, until he shares more information.

"My first job was at Burger King. I was sixteen, she was nineteen. It was a good summer," he says casually, but can't quite hide the smile forming on his lips.

For once in her life, Pearl is at a loss for words. "Wow."

Clint gestures over to the man next to him. Tony looks Clint up and down, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

"Never have I ever had sex at fast-food restaurant," he says. Clint shakes his head and takes another swig of his beer, making Tony joyfully pat him on the back. Pearl drinks, too, remembering the only rule of the game, and notices Bucky looking at her with a slight flush on his cheeks. Tony gives her a surprised look, while Steve sits in his place with his arms folded, dangling a beer from his hand, his eyes slowly going from one person to the other.

"Never have I ever been to Disneyland," he says on his turn, kind of monotone. Tony drinks, so does Mae. Pearl wonders if the game is making Steve uncomfortable with all the sexual references. Tony gets up and leans over the table to high five Mae.

"At least there's one person here with their priorities in order," he says, sitting down. "Next company retreat, we're going to Disneyland."

People laugh, especially Pearl, who is really feeling the fruity cocktail and can't help sipping on it between people's statements.

On Clint's turn, he sizes up Tony. "Never have I ever had a one night stand."

Tony lifts up his drink in Clint's direction before pouring it down his throat with a smug look on his face. Pearl and Natasha both drink, obviously, and Sam drinks while looking over to Mae like he's expecting something horrible to happen, but she simply smiles and taps her finger on his nose in the most adorable way. Steve seems to be observing Sam's new girl much like Pearl is. He notices her looking at him, looking at the couple, and quickly averts his gaze.

Pearl, way too focused on Sam, Mae, Steve and the fact that Tony has already finished his glass of scotch and is pouring himself another one, is snapped out of it by the faint sound of her own name. She looks to her side to see Clint staring at her with a wrinkled forehead and realizes that it is, in fact, finally her turn. Bucky seems to lean in a little in his seat. Something in his eyes takes Pearl back to that moment in her room earlier—the one, where he couldn't keep his hands to himself. The one, that was interrupted by Tony's arrival.

"Never have I ever fantasized about someone in this room," she says and doesn't break eye contact with Bucky as she downs the rest of her drink. He follows suit, but their moment is cut short by Sam's voice.

"Wait, you're allowed to drink on your own turn? How does that work?"

Pearl shrugs. "There's only one rule," she says with a smile and then watches as everybody drinks. Everybody except Clint, because he's married and proper and possibly lying, and Steve, who is still sitting there looking like he's just a good old Christian who has somehow wound up among sexual deviants. He looks uncomfortable, to say the least.

It's Mae's turn again. As she ponders her next statement, Bucky fills up people's glasses and brings out more food from the kitchen. Pearl hasn't even noticed anyone eating, but the food seems to be disappearing at a good pace, so they must be. He sits down again.

"Never have I ever kissed a girl," Mae says.

"We can fix that for you, if you want," Pearl says before taking a sip of her new fruity cocktail, which turns out to be delicious and completely treacherous, due to the fact that it barely tastes like alcohol. The glaring look on Sam's face makes her laugh. "Sam, I'm kidding."

Mae looks around. "Wait, did I win again?"

"I think you did," Tony says, and everybody nods along to confirm that they did drink. "Another round?"

There's a barely audible groan from Natasha and some awkward moving around in his seat by Steve, but the general consensus seems to be favorable towards another round of the game.

"Never have I ever been arrested," Sam says.

"Really, Wilson?" Tony asks, raising his glass in the air, probably knowing someone is sure follow suit, and he turns out to be right, as Clint raises his glass. "Ah, good man!" Tony exclaims and they clink glasses. Natasha laughs and drinks. Pearl does, too.

Sam raises an eyebrow, looking at Pearl. He gestures towards his fellow Avengers. "These guys I expected, but you?"

Pearl sighs. This is, by far, one of the most boring stories she could tell, but Sam clearly wants to hear it and by the looks of all the eyes on her, other people do too. It sounds exciting of course, her getting arrested, especially since she's not a vigilante like the rest of them, but even the story about the time she had sex in a fast-food restaurant would've been more exciting. At least that happened overseas.

"It's not a big deal. I was in school and it was a Saturday night, so I was at the bar," Pearl begins.

Tony nods along. "Of course."

"And it was a college bar, so cops used to come in and check ID's all the time," she says, twirling a curl between her fingers. "I was over twenty-one, so it didn't matter, but the cop that asked for my ID that time was, like, ridiculously handsome, so I flirted, and he thought I was just trying to distract him from noticing my so-called fake ID."

Sam lets out a chuckle and even Steve's serious facade cracks a little as he listens to the story.

"So he arrested me, and I spent a few hours locked up while they came to the conclusion that it was actually my real ID and not just a really good fake," Pearl says.

"Seriously?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. He wanted to make up for the trouble, though, so he drove me home."

And took her upstairs and helped her take off all her clothes, and even though that part would definitely make the story less boring, it's a story for another time and most definitely another audience. Natasha's heard it of course, but thankfully she's not mean enough to make her next statement 'never have I ever had sex with the cop that arrested me.'

It's Bucky's turn again. "Never have I ever smoked a cigarette," he says and watches as most players around him drink.

"Liar," Steve says, lifting his beer bottle to drink. "I've seen you smoke."

"When?" Bucky asks, taken aback, eyes wide. His mind appears to be processing the accusation.

Steve crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "1931. Behind the deli on Flatbush."

Bucky's forehead wrinkles. "Why don't I remember this?"

"It was a Tuesday, right after school let out," Steve says. "You'd stolen the cigarettes from your old man and you didn't want to give me one, because of my asthma, but I insisted."

A look of great clarity appears on Bucky's face. He points at Steve with a smile. "And then you threw up."

"So, you do remember," Steve says, half a smile forming onto his face, and watches Bucky down the rest of his drink.

It's a really sweet moment between two old friends, and while in reality, Steve and Bucky smoking a cigarette in 1930's Brooklyn probably didn't resemble an old black and white gangster movie, that's sort of how Pearl is picturing it in her head. The scene in her head, with both boys wearing suspenders and newsboy caps as a black Cadillac drives by, is interrupted by Natasha's turn.

"Never have I ever been in love."

Natasha's statement seems to echo in the room—or possibly just inside Pearl's head—as she lifts her drink up to meet her lips. Her eyes are fixated on Pearl, who hesitates, clutching her drink in her hand. Taking a swig won't reveal anything to anybody besides Natasha, since she's the only one who knows Pearl's never been in love, not really, and the only reason she knows that, is because the last time they played this game, Pearl used that exact statement on her turn.

But that was before Bucky.

Bucky won't know, because they've never had a conversation about exes, and everybody else is irrelevant in the matter. They're barely paying attention. Pearl watches everybody but Sam take a sip of their drink and feels Natasha's intense glare burning a hole through her. The moment seems to last forever even though it's mere seconds long. Pearl has never lied in this game and she's not about to start; she pours her delicious beverage down her throat and sees Natasha smirking from the corner of her eye, before turning to face Tony.

"Never have I ever lied about my age," Tony says, making all the women drink.

Steve continues on to keep his title as probably the most boring person to ever play the game, saying he's never been to Hawaii, and Clint appears to be too preoccupied with texting and only manages to mutter out something about never graduating college.

By the time it's Pearl's turn, she's quite wasted, to put it mildly, but she's not about to let that ruin her plan—her perfect plan to get Steve and Sam back where they were. In her drunken mind, Never Have I Ever is the absolute best way to confront Steve, but she also knows doing so will immediately change the mood in the room, most likely ending the game quickly. She leans back in her seat, staring at Steve, and begins her statement.

"Never have I ever been completely unreasonably, not to mention stupidly, mad at a person when somebody was hurt, because it really wasn't that person's fault at all, and that somebody has completely forgiven and forgotten the whole thing, and everything turned out all right and nobody was taken by anyone."

Her words may be slurred, but the irritation behind them comes through. In hindsight, she probably could've worded this better, but the time for that was about five drinks ago. She stares at Steve, who has clearly understood every word of her drunken rambling, if his furrowed brow and the figurative steam coming from his ears are any indication. Sam crosses his arms and tries to avoid eye contact while Bucky looks at Pearl like he can't decide whether to be embarrassed for her or impressed by her candid.

"What?" Tony asks.

Clint looks around the circle, clearly puzzled. "Do you win if nobody understands what you're trying to say?"

Steve slams his hands onto his lap. "That sounds fair. Pearl wins, end of game."

"No, that's not how this works," Pearl says firmly. "And I would like to remind everybody, especially Steve, of the only rule of this game."

"No lying," Tony says, turning his attention towards Steve now, one eyebrow raised and the hint of a smirk creeping up onto his lips. Pearl can't tell if he's really on her side—if he even knows what she's talking about—or if he's just trying to annoy Steve.

Pearl points furiously and repeatedly towards Tony. "Yes, exactly!" she exlaims and turns to face Steve again.

They stare each other down, neither one blinking or flinching or moving. It becomes a staring contest, an angry one, with Steve remaining completely stone faced and Pearl staring at him with as much vigor as she possibly can, trying to get him to drink and admit to overreacting, also while actively trying not to fall off her chair, since she's somehow ended up right on the edge of it and neither falling off or adjusting her position and risk losing the staring contest are viable options. In the end he does nothing but ever so slightly grind his teeth.

"I think it's your turn again, Mae."

Both Steve and Pearl remain unmoved by the sound of Natasha's voice.

"Seriously?" Mae asks quietly. "Right, okay. Never have I ever... Been in a fight."

Pearl drinks, so does Steve.

"Hey, you win again!" Clint says in the most light-hearted tone he can manage, probably trying to break up the tension.

"Awesome," Mae says dryly.

Tony laughs. Pearl hears glasses being placed on the table. Steve's gaze shifts from Pearl to the others and back again. He places his bottle on the table and gets up without a word. He walks away at a quick pace, but Pearl, no matter how inebriated, is not far behind.

Or at least that's what she thinks. In reality, by the time Pearl realizes what's happening and scrambles up from her seat, Bucky's already there, grabbing onto her arm, stopping her from going after him.

"Don't," he says softly and guides her towards the kitchen. She doesn't resist, partly because Steve seems to be heading outside and it's probably cold there and partly because the feel of Bucky's hand around her arm is making her all soft and gooey inside. Pearl leans her hip against the kitchen counter and looks up to meet his eyes.

"If your plan is to make him mad at you, so he forgets about being mad at Sam, then you're on the right track," he says, leaning towards her, his thigh barely grazing hers. "Just let him cool off for a minute."

Pearl rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, Sergeant Barnes."

"So, that was a fun game, I guess," Bucky says, scratching the nape of his neck.

"It's kind of pointless when you can't get drunk."

Pearl tries to hop onto the kitchen counter, but fails miserably. Bucky grabs her by the hips and helps her up.

"Maybe, but I did learn a lot," he says and a million things start running through Pearl's head.

"Uh-oh."

She knows immediately what he's referring to. She always knows. It's the cop in a bar and the sex in a fast food restaurant. It's her old boss and the strip club thing. The one night stands and whatever else she might have mentioned during the game. It's always that.

"What?" Bucky asks.

"This is the part where you ask me how many men I've been with and when I tell you, you make a face and try to pretend that you're cool with it," Pearl says. She's not sure if it's the alcohol or the fact that she's getting really tired of having this conversation with people, but her voice is agitated and her fingers are digging into the edge of the counter.

"What?"

Pearl shakes her head furiously. "I've got nothing to hide, so if you want to ask, ask."

"But I don't-"

She throws her hands in the air. "I mean, I like sex, okay?"

"Yeah?"

He looks kind of surprised. Kind of confused. Kind of sexy.

"And I like having sex with you, but in the past, I have had sex with other people."

She's blinking. A lot.

He nods. "Alright."

"And I just don't want you to think I'm a whore," Pearl says with a shrug and an awfully high-pitched voice. "Because I don't think I'm a whore, I mean, I don't regret anything, except maybe that one bartender, but I just don't want you to be freaked out, because you're old-fashioned or whatever."

Pearl crosses her arms and waits for a response, not really sure what kind to expect. Bucky looks at her for what feels like ten minutes, but is actually around thirty seconds, with his mouth slightly open and his brow furrowed, like he's trying to recite the decimals of pi in his head or something. When he finally speaks, it's not what she expected.

"You do realize I didn't _ask_ you?"

He grabs her hand.

"What?"

He did. Didn't he? They always ask.

"I said I learned a lot during the game, but I meant other things. I didn't know you were arrested. I didn't know Clint worked at Burger King. I now know we all need to go to Disneyland. Those kinds of things."

He sounds so... Gentle. Caring. The confusion is still there, in his eyes, and it makes Pearl realize that he didn't, in fact, ask her anything. He looks straight into her eyes, so naturally she averts her gaze and stares down onto her lap. If he didn't ask before, he's definitely going to do so now.

He grabs her by the chin and his metal finger sends a small shiver down her spine, though she ought to be used to it by now. He lifts her head up. "Where is this coming from? Why are you freaking out?"

"I'm drunk," Pearl says.

His gorgeous eyes drill into hers. The corner of his mouth curves upwards. "I can see that. And?"

He's not wrong; there is more. Her drunken mind might have made that conversation into something that it wasn't, but the meaning behind her words, the reason for her agitation and her defensiveness over the matter, those weren't just drunken ramblings. She knows exactly what they were and where they came from.

"And I really-" The words get stuck in her throat. "I really like you."

"Well I know that," Bucky says, the slight curve turning into a full-on smile.

She yanks her hand away from his, wrapping her arms around herself. "Yeah, but it scares me."

"I've told you before, I would never judge you."

"I know."

"Have I given you a reason to doubt that promise?" Bucky asks.

Pearl shakes her head.

"So, why are you scared?"

She swallows a lump in her throat. "I don't want you to become another one of my stories."

"Why would that happen?"

Because why wouldn't it happen? Just based on probability and statistics alone, the chances of Bucky ending up as another funny anecdote over a game of 'Never Have I Ever' are pretty high. Astronomical, even. That, combined with Pearl's inability to have a functioning relationship, isn't exactly instilling Pearl with a lot of faith in theirs. And it's bad, she knows it's bad. They've barely begun dating and she's already waiting for the inevitable end—though she's managed to hide it pretty well until now, until the mimosas and the fruity cocktails and the drinking game.

The fact is, a lot of men would've bolted right after learning about her tendency to sleep with anything that moves and the rest would've run for the hills after her little scene about it, because there's nothing more unsexy than an insecure woman howling on about not wanting to be seen as a slut, but Bucky has straight up said he's not going to judge her and so far, he has been living up to that promise. He has been nothing but kind to her, always. Even after her freak out, he's there, being kind and caring, because he's that kind of a guy.

Pearl knows he's that kind of a guy. A guy, who keeps his promise. A guy, who doesn't let the world tell him what he should think. A guy, who falls for a confident girl and then doesn't run when that confidence comes crashing down and the girl turns out to be a mess.

Pearl knows why she freaked out. It's not because she's embarrassed of her past — she's definitely not. She's not full of regrets. She's not wishing she would've saved herself for marriage or only had sex when in a long-term relationship. She's not an insecure woman, howling about not wanting to be seen as a slut. She's none of those things. In fact, she's always the first person to laugh about her own history and call herself names other people are too polite to say. She freaked out, because the thought of having her heart broken continues to haunt her. She's scared. Terrified. Though she's tried her best to forget about it and enjoy the ride, the truth tends to come out once enough alcohol has been consumed.

Bucky caresses her cheek lightly, snapping her out of thought. "We all have a past. There's nothing in yours that would change my opinion of you."

He's exactly that kind of a guy. Pearl can only hope he can keep being that kind of a guy long enough for her to actually believe guys like that exist.

"You're like the sweetest man in the whole world," Pearl says.

He tilts his head to the side. He raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't exactly a monk before we met, either."

Pearl giggles. "Yeah? You got a lot of action in the cryo chamber?"

"How much did you drink?" he asks, laughing.

"Well, I've done a lot of stuff, so, a lot."

Bucky makes Pearl drink coffee, though she tries to tell him that it's probably never been proven that coffee helps people sober up, and they return to the living room. Pearl sees Natasha give them a quizzical look from the couch, where she and Clint are apparently swiping through the newest photos of his kids, and Sam immediately stops whatever he was talking to Mae about. He looks to be expecting something.

"I think I'll go talk to Steve," Pearl says.

"Is that a good idea?" Sam asks.

"What's the worst that can happen?"

As her guests look at one another with very telling expressions, Pearl grabs a blanket from the couch and wraps herself in it before sliding open the door that leads outside. Steve is sitting on one of the patio chairs, leaning his elbows on his knees, looking out at the night sky. The faint sound of the city echoes in the air. Pearl sees his jaw clenching up as she approaches.

"Do you have a lot of friends, Steve?" she asks.

No response. It's become quite a habit for him.

She walks over and sits on the arm of his chair. "Because I don't, and that's mainly because I can be a huge bitch, but I know a good friendship when I see one."

He's still not looking at her, but his left eye makes a twitching motion. "Your point being?"

"You need to talk to Sam."

She's not pressing this time. This time, she's simply pleading. Her voice is soft and fragile.

He turns to face her. "You're not going to stop, are you?"

"No." She smiles, shaking her head.

"Is that why you threw this party?" he asks.

"Yes." She shrugs one shoulder. "Also, because I wanted to celebrate life, but mostly for you."

Steve sighs.

"Fine."

After that, the party kind of dies down. Sam goes outside to talk to Steve, and from what Pearl can see through the window, it doesn't appear to go awfully wrong. They seem awkward with one another, but at least they're talking. People leave. A huge amount of food is left over, a lot of liquor left unconsumed. Pearl falls asleep on the couch as she subtly tries to spy on Sam and Steve.

A dream where she's falling wakes her up some hours later, though as her side hits the hardwood floor of her room and her mouth lets out a surprised scream, it becomes quite apparent quite quickly that it's not a dream at all. Pearl lays there, on the floor, on her side, barely awake and possibly still drunk, confused as to what the hell just happened and for a split second, she thinks she's just fallen out of bed. The sound of someone shouting suggests otherwise. She can't make out any words, but his voice is familiar.

Pearl tries to use her hands to push herself up, but instead, someone grabs her by the shoulder, flinging her down onto her back. Her head hits the floor hard and something pushes down onto her chest, preventing her from getting up or squirming away, but it doesn't prevent her from trying. Slamming her hands against the floor, she tries to push herself up, but it's no use. It's dark, so she can't see anyone, but her first thought is HYDRA. They've breached the facility to come and take Bucky and she's in the way. Again.

The thing on her chest makes it hard to breathe. She's panting as she grabs it, trying to wrestle it off, but as her fingers wrap around, she feels skin. And hair. Toes.

The idea that HYDRA would send a barefooted agent to do the job seems ridiculous, but Pearl doesn't really have time to think about it. Using both hands, she can't even get the foot to budge. As she reaches around the dark, trying to find another leg to try and trip the guy or something, she hears the voice again. His voice.

Bucky.

It's his voice, but not his words. He's shouting at her in Russian, repeating the same words over and over, while pushing her down, harder and harder. It's clear he's the only one in the room. There's no HYDRA.

"Bucky!" Pearl screams out, her voice strained, still trying to wrangle his foot off of her. "Bucky, it's me!"

Suddenly, the weight on her chest is lifted, but she doesn't even get a chance to inhale properly when she feels his metal hand squeezing around her throat and his other hand grabbing both of hers, slamming them down onto the floor above her head. She tries to use her feet to push him away, but he negates her efforts by simply climbing on top of her.

She screams as loudly as she can, hoping someone will hear. Hoping they'll get there in time.

He screams out the words again, but the slight glimmer of hope that he doesn't want to kill her until he gets an answer, quickly vanishes as his grip around her throat tightens.

And then, as quickly as light bursts through the door, Bucky is dragged out of it. Pearl hears something smash against the wall in the hallway. She hears a loud bang, followed by another smash, this time from further away.

Pearl coughs violently, gently holding onto her throat. She feels a hand around her neck, helping her sit up, and looks up to see Sam's face, barely lit up by the light from the hallway. He looks horrified.

"What the hell happened?" he asks.

Pearl doesn't know how to respond. She shakes her head, just barely, and looks down to see the bruises around her wrists. They're only going to get more visible after tonight. She tries to get up, but Sam stops her by putting an arm around her.

"You're not going anywhere. Steve can take care of... whatever that was."

He sounds angry, and she can't exactly blame him. He helps her into bed and gets her a glass of water from the bathroom. She refuses his offer to go see a doctor. She rests her head on a fluffy pillow, listening to his never ending list of questions and concerns, unable to answer a single one.

"What happened?"

As far as she can tell, Bucky went back to being The Asset. Why? No idea. How? No idea.

"He's unsafe. You're going to stop seeing him, right?"

It probably would be for the best, but just the thought of it makes Pearl tear up.

"You can't just go out there again and act like everything's okay."

Everything's not okay. It might never be okay. All she knows is, she has to see Bucky.

"I know that, Sam," she says, her voice still raspy from the experience. She sits up on the bed. "But I have to find out what happened."

She walks down the hall to the living room, relieved that she can clearly hear two voices talking. She can't quite make out what they're talking about, but it sounds serious, which, considering what just happened, is probably a good thing.

As she turns the final corner, she sees Steve standing and Bucky sitting down.

"I don't know, Bucky. After this, I don't know if I feel comfortable letting you go," Steve says, before noticing her. As he does, he quickly shuts up. Bucky turns around, horrified to see her there. His eyes seem fixated on her neck.

"Go where?" Pearl asks.


	21. Banged Up And Bruised But Totally Fine

****CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE  
**** ** **BANGED UP AND BRUISED BUT TOTALLY FINE****

* * *

As he sees Pearl standing at the doorway, Bucky stands up immediately

"Pearl."

He clearly wasn't expecting to see her, it's evident in his voice. He begins to take a step forward towards her, like it's a reflex, but stops quickly. His face is completely devoid of color and his human hand is shaking, so lightly it's barely noticeable. His eyes are bloodshot, wider than she's ever seen them, and still fixated on her neck. She places her hand on her neck, jolting him out of thought. He quickly looks down.

"Are you-" Steve begins, but pauses, as if asking her if she's alright would be inappropriate or insensitive and since Steve is neither, he just clears his throat. "How are you?"

"I've been better," Pearl says quietly, dropping her hand back.

Her voice is still raspy, and the fact that she was thrown onto the floor is beginning to fully realize in the form of a literal pain in her ass — or hip, to be exact. Her throat feels like somebody ran over it with a truck and then beat the remains with a sledgehammer. She crosses her arms, just to have something to do with them, and bites on her lip, watching as Bucky stares at the floor.

"I don't-"

Bucky's voice trembles, matching the movement of his hand. His jaw is clenched and he's shaking his head. Pearl sees his focus darting from left to right.

"I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry, I can't believe I-"

He runs his hands through his hair, grabbing and pulling at it. His whole body twitches and trembles like jello being poked with a fork.

"I almost-"

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, burying his face in his hands.

"You could've-"

Pearl stares at the man before her — or what's left of him, anyway — and she knows what she should be feeling. He hurt her, badly, and even though he didn't mean to, it still happened. She's supposed to be scared of him, to feel wary around him. She's not supposed to want to run to him and hug him and tell him everything will be okay.

Then again, she's never been one to do what's expected.

"Bucky, calm down," she says.

Pearl takes a few steps forward, prompting Steve to put his hand up and signal for her to stay back. He looks tense from head to toe. Pearl ignore him and keeps walking.

"Calm down? How can I calm down?" His tone is agitated, angry, rushed. He runs his hands to the sides of his face, looking like he's about to dig into his skull. As he opens his eyes, his arms drop to his side. He looks surprised to see her standing so close. "I tried to kill you."

The last words are barely audible and they leave his bottom lip quivering. He stares straight at her. His eyes are puffy and red, yet so clear and glossy at the same time.

"I know. Just-"

Pearl decides mid-sentence that actions speak louder than words, especially in a situation like this. Bucky shudders as she tries to grab his hand, pulling it out of her reach, but she's not about to give up. She takes another step forward, staring defiantly into his eyes, and wraps her arms around him, as tightly as she possibly can. Bucky tries to step back, but she won't let him, so he lowers his head so it rests on top of hers. His body is still shaking and his breathing is short and quick. He seems to hesitate before reciprocating her hug.

From the corner of her eye, Pearl sees Steve exit the room.

They hold onto one another for a while, minutes maybe. Bucky's body seems to calm down and relax, but his breathing remains uneven. Pearl loosens her grip a little and looks up, her jaw resting on his chest, his mouth now grazing her forehead. His eyes are closed.

"I'm fine, Bucky," she says.

He lightly shakes his head, biting on his bottom lip. "You're not. You shouldn't be."

There it is again, what she should be feeling.

"You had a nightmare?" Pearl asks.

Bucky nods. She doesn't press him for more information, since she knows he will tell her when he's ready. Right now, she just wants to be there, offering him comfort. Maybe it's wrong and maybe it's fucked up, she doesn't care. She takes his hand and guides him to sit on the couch. He leans forward, burying his face in his hands again. He seems smaller, somehow. It's weird.

Pearl doesn't really know what to say. Telling him she's fine seems redundant, not to mention useless, since he won't believe her anyway, because he's not in the right state of mind to be assessing the situation objectively. He tried to kill her, sure, but he should know her well enough by now to know she doesn't scare easily. Not by stuff like this. She's scared of love, commitment and real feelings, yes, but not murder attempts and bad dreams. By all accounts, she is fine. A little banged up, but fine.

"So, what was that about going somewhere?" Pearl asks, remembering the conversation she walked in on.

"Huh?"

Bucky looks up at her, seemingly caught off guard. He seems to be processing the question — or maybe he's just processing the fact that she asked the question, the totally possibly irrelevant question that has nothing to do with what just happened as far as she knows — and he struggles to find the words.

"Oh, I-" He hesitates. "I planned a trip for us."

"A trip? Where?"

"Ohio."

Visions of white sandy beaches and maitais by the sea disappear from Pearl's mind as quickly as they appeared, but she doesn't mind. Ohio isn't a glamorous place. It's not a place she visits often, and when she does, it usually ends up being a short visit. Growing up, she spent a lot of time dreaming about leaving it behind.

But it's home, and he promised to take her there and he didn't forget. She can't help but smile. His expression goes from worried to surprised to something resembling relief.

"And Steve agreed to it?" she asks. He opens his mouth to speak, but gets cut short by the sound of Steve's voice.

"He didn't really give me a choice." He's standing in the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed. "But it's not a good idea right now."

He's definitely got that whole worried, caring yet strict parent thing going on and impeccable timing to boot.

Bucky sighs. "I know, Steve, I wasn't suggesting it. I was just sad that we can't go."

"Why can't we go?" Pearl asks.

Her question is met with total silence. The look on Steve's face is a familiar one, as in he thinks she's crazy, and the look on Bucky's face seems to be worry, again. The two men look at each other. Steve's firm, arms crossed and clenched jaw type of thing is met by Bucky's wide-eyed confusion. Steve turns to Pearl again, clearly about to say something.

She cuts him off before the first syllable leaves his lips. "What? This? This was a fluke. It's not going to happen again."

"It might."

Steve doesn't look too happy, but that's nothing new. She stares at him until she feels Bucky's hand on hers.

"Pearl, I don't think it's-" he says.

Pearl shakes her head, not willing to hear it. "It'll be good for you. Being locked up here... It's not healthy."

She wraps her hand over his. Something resembling a smile creeps up onto his lips, barely visible through the conflict of emotions on his face.

Steve interrupts the moment. Again. "You should get some sleep. I'll get a doctor to look at you in the morning."

The tone of his voice makes a seemingly sweet and caring gesture into one of those end of discussion type statements. Pearl complies, because she doesn't want to begin an argument, not in front of Bucky, but as Steve walks her back to her room, she can't just stay quiet.

They reach her door. Sam's not there anymore.

"This discussion concerns me too, Steve," Pearl says.

"It really doesn't."

There's that tone again. Pearl studies his face, trying to think of something to say, something to change his mind. He's got bags under his eyes and definite worry lines forming onto his forehead. His whole body seems tense.

He's obviously tired, and maybe that's what's making him act like a jerk. She's tired, too, and decides to return to this discussion another day, because the things she wants to say right now are the kinds of things she'd probably regret in the morning. So, she says nothing and takes a step inside her room.

"You're not doing him any favors by acting like you're fine," he says, making her turn back again.

"I am fine."

Steve doesn't get it. Pearl is fine, because she needs to be fine. She will make herself be fine. Bucky doesn't need to have another bad thing weighing on his conscience, and if he knew how much pain she's actually in, he would lock himself in a room and never see her again. It's not like it'll happen again, Pearl is sure of it. He's been fine for weeks.

"The HYDRA agents were captured two days ago. The ones who shot you," he says suddenly. "In total, there was twelve of them. They're all in custody now."

"What?" Pearl asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it changes nothing."

With that, he leaves. Pearl watches him walk away, dying to yell something out after him, but she suppresses the urge.

Waking up the next day is painful, not just because she's bruised all over, but also because she'd gotten so used to having someone to wake up next to. Out of habit, Pearl reaches over to Bucky's side of the bed, still half asleep, but the only thing her fingers find is a crumpled up bed sheet. It's not made any less painful by the fact that Steve decides to wake her up at the crack of dawn by knocking on her door, loudly. She rolls out of bed and drags herself to open the door.

"Didn't I just see you two hours ago?" she asks, not even trying to hide her less than joyful mood. She's bruised, hungover, unbelievably tired and totally not in the mood to deal with Steve right now.

He smirks. "What can I say, I just couldn't wait."

"I bet."

His smirk disappears as he briefly glances at her neck. Trying to avert his eyes, he grabs the door handle, ready to close it again. "Get dressed. We're going to the hospital."

"I thought you were bringing the doctors to me," Pearl says, wondering if she has any scarves at the compound or if they're all at home. Judging by Steve's reaction, her neck probably looks like it might scare off small children, should they run into any.

He shrugs. "They want to run tests and scans. Can't do that here."

"Who's going to watch Bucky?"

"Sam's here."

Sam's here. Of course he's here. He was here last night, all through the night and all through Bucky's episode or whatever. Pearl already knows Sam's here, but now, thanks to the calm and collected tone of Steve's voice and the completely tense-free expression on his face, she also knows Sam's off the bench and back to being Bucky's babysitter.

She feels the corners of her mouth tugging up towards her ears. "Oh. So, you guys are, like, fine now?"

Steve shrugs. "Stop smiling."

Pearl tries to do as he says, but she can't help it. Her smile has evolved into a full on, all teeth showing, gums out, sides of her mouth hurting kind of smile. She knows Steve will never tell her the details of what exactly happened, but Sam might.

The trip to the hospital is boring and long, since the doctors can't really find anything wrong with her and make her wait ages for the actual results to confirm that nothing is wrong with her, and they aren't even handsome doctors this time around. No, this time they're a bunch of wrinkly old men, one of whom smells like the disgusting cabbage rolls Pearl's nana used to make. Steve barely says a word to her and the nurses won't change the channel on the TV in the waiting room, forcing Pearl to sit there and watch FOX News, since she didn't even remember to bring her phone.

"You're unusually quiet," he says after a long while.

Pearl, who has been mentally cataloging all her shoes and wondering if she should start replacing them with more expensive versions now that she's got money, turns to face him. "I didn't think you wanted to talk to me."

"Why's that?"

She gives him a look, as in the 'are you kidding me' kind of look.

He smiles. "I know we have our differences, but we have the same goal, right? I just want Bucky to be safe."

"Me, too."

His smile falters, but the tone of his voice remains calm. "The last time Bucky left the compound, you were shot."

"You think HYDRA is still out there?" Pearl asks.

He shrugs. "I know we don't have all of them, but I'm not concerned about the rest. They're in hiding and they will stay that way, if they know their own good."

"But?"

"But there will always be something. Bucky's a well known assassin, probably wanted by most governments on this planet," Steve says.

"He's a ghost story," Pearl replies.

Steve shakes his head. "He used to be, but after last year... It's only a matter of time before someone connects the dots or an agent of HYDRA sells the information of Bucky's whereabouts to the highest bidder." He pauses and sighs. "I told him all of this, and he said he's taking you to Ohio, whether I like it or not. I told him he's free to make his own decisions, no matter how stupid they may be. But that was before last night."

He looks straight into her eyes. "Me and Sam were still up talking last night, when we heard noises coming from your room. If we'd been asleep, we might not be having this conversation right now."

Though he tries to be strict, genuine concern is all over his face, and she can't argue with his words, so she sits still and doesn't say a peep.

When Pearl finally gets back from the hospital, she leaves Steve to park the car and finds Bucky waiting for her at the door. He looks scared, almost. "What did they say?"

"They wondered how I didn't pass out, and there are some hairline fractures on my sternum and bruises all over," she says. "But I'm fine."

She yanks off her shoes, throwing them in the corner. The motion hurts her shoulder, making her grind her teeth a little.

Bucky notices her pained expression. "You're in pain."

"A little. They gave me good pills, though," she says with a shrug, trying to neutralize her expression.

It does, in all honesty, hurt more than a little, but thank God for modern medicine, though the doctors only gave her the good pills after she lied about not having a history of substance abuse in her family.

Pearl walks over to slump down onto the couch. Bucky sits down on the edge of it.

"I remembered something about it. The dream. The nightmare," he says, looking down at his hands. "I, uh, I saw your face and then there was HYDRA. I was in my chamber. I remember someone saying all these words, but I can't remember what they were."

"Words?"

"They might've been code or they could mean nothing. I don't know." He shakes his head before raising it to meet her eyes. "Steve said I have to start seeing a psychotherapist."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think it's a good idea," he says. "But only after we get back."

"We're going?" Pearl asks, genuinely surprised. She was sure Steve had talked Bucky out of it, especially after what he said at the hospital.

"Unless you're having second thoughts?" Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow. "I promised Steve I'd wait a little, so I pushed our flights to Thursday, but I can cancel them."

"No, don't," Pearl says, sitting up on the couch and inching her way closer to him. "It has been over a month since your last nightmare."

He looks down at his hands again. "It has, but I understand if you're scared of me."

"I've never been scared of you," she says and grabs his hand to give it a squeeze.

After that, everything returns to normal, almost. Steve doesn't want Bucky and Pearl sleeping in the same room, not to mention the same bed, so Bucky reluctantly agrees to sleep in the room next to Steve's, while Pearl promises to obey Steve's wishes.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asks on the first night as Pearl tiptoes her way into his new room and slips under the covers, nuzzling herself right into the nook of his arm. "You promised Steve."

"I've never been great at keeping my promises," she mumbles in response.

Sam comes back to the compound and acts incredibly weird and tense around the two of them, as in so tense it seems as if he's about to claw his way through his palms any minute, but he doesn't say anything. Based on the range of topics he chooses to discuss, he has developed an avid interest in weather and sports. Pearl doesn't ask him about it, because she knows what he'd say. Whenever Steve brings up the subject of Ohio, Sam nods silently in agreement.

On Tuesday, just as Steve talks to Bucky about the phone he has to take with him and the GPS tracker that will be attached to his body, Pearl catches Sam staring at her neck. He looks away, quickly, but it makes her feel uneasy. For a brief moment, she imagines the worst case scenario. For a brief moment, she's scared. With one look in Bucky's direction, the feeling passes.

When Thursday finally rolls around, the number of nightmares matches the number of nights Pearl's spent in her own bed, both totaling at an even zero. Steve doesn't attempt to change their mind, probably because he's been wildly unsuccessful so far.

"Have a good trip," he simply says, his words loaded with hidden meaning. Try not to get kidnapped. Try not to kill your girlfriend. Come back alive. Come back, period. Those kinds of things.

Bucky hugs him. "We'll be fine, Steve. I swear."

As Pearl finishes packing up her suitcase, throwing in all the last minute essentials like her toothbrush, deodorant and another pair of shoes, she sees Bucky standing at her doorway, leaning on the frame. In his hand, hangs a backpack. She's never seen it before, but considering its worn-out fabric, it's not new. "What's that?"

He shrugs. "Just my stuff."

"I can clear out some space in my luggage for you, if you want. Or we can find another bag somewhere," she says.

"No, it's fine," he says, shaking his head lightly, and appears to grasp onto the handle tightly.

"Alright. Keep your ugly backpack."

Pearl wears a turtle-neck sweater to hide the bruises on her neck and chest. Thankfully, they're making a comeback, so it's not a super weird choice for a nice spring day. She's also packed a bunch of scarves. To balance out hiding her top half, she wears a mini skirt and sheer pantyhose. After all, if she was completely covered up, her family might get suspicious. Penelope would probably assume she'd found God.

After one last look in the mirror, she grabs the handle of her suitcase and rolls it out into the hallway.

"You ready?" she asks, trying to smile but it comes out forced.

"Are you alright?" he asks. He places his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm a little nervous. I've never officially introduced anyone to my parents before."

Officially, she never has. There was Andy, who had been in the same class with her since kindergarten, so her parents knew him already when they started dating, and he used to sneak in through her bedroom window so they barely interacted. Then there was Jake, aka Security Guard guy, who met her father briefly at the police station. And lastly, there was the naked guy in bed with her back in law school when her father decided to pay a surprise visit a month after Philip's funeral. His name escapes her right now, but he did have a black American Express card.

"Oh."

She takes a deep breath and smiles, this time for real. "I guess there was never anyone worth bringing home."

He responds with a kiss on her forehead.

Sam pokes his head around the corner. "Your ride is here."

"That was fast, I literally just called for a cab," Pearl says, making her way towards the door with Bucky in tow.

Sam follows them. "A cab?"

Opening the front door, she turns back to see a really weird expression on Sam's face, and just when she's about to ask, she sees a look of confusion appearing on Bucky's face. He points outside. Pearl looks to where he's pointing and suddenly the confused faces make sense.

Right outside, stands an older dark-haired man, dressed in a snazzy black suit that looks to be custom-tailored for his wide shoulders, but the man isn't really the shocking part, even if he is way too well dressed to just be your average everyday cab driver. The shocking part is the freaking limousine behind him.

"Miss Palmer, I presume?" he asks as Pearl stares at him, her mouth probably agape.

"Uh, yeah? And you-"

Sam interrupts her. "Happy Hogan, right?"

The man, apparently named Happy, nods. He walks over to Pearl. "Mister Stark thought you might need a ride."

Happy picks up Pearl's suitcase and carries it to the trunk of the limo before opening the door for her and Bucky to get in. Before Pearl takes a step forward, Sam leans in, whispering in her ear. "He's Stark's Head of Security."

As the limo leaves the compound, Pearl types up a quick text to Tony, summarizing her feelings of the weird situation.

 _(01:13pm) ?_

He replies quickly, in his typically infuriating manner.

 _(01:13pm) :D_


	22. One Big Happy Family

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO  
ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY**

* * *

After reading Tony's completely useless text, Pearl throws her phone into her handbag, which is laying on the seat next to her. It's new, amazing, arrived just in time for the trip and is totally going to make Penelope die of envy, even though she'll never admit it. Pearl sighs before actually taking in her unexpected new surroundings. She doesn't have a lot of experience with limousines, but she's pretty sure this one is top-notch quality, since it has cream colored, amazingly comfortable leather seats and a fully stocked bar with fancy looking glassware, the kind where one champagne glass probably costs more than all of Pearl's dishes and silverware combined. Bucky's looking out of the tinted window.

"Why would Tony send us a limousine?"

Pearl is just voicing her thoughts out loud, totally not expecting Bucky to respond with anything beyond a shrug, but he turns to her and speaks.

"I don't know. I told him we'd just get a cab," he says, his unexpected words accompanied by the expected shrugging of his shoulders.

"Wait, what?"

"He helped me with some paperwork, so I'd be able to get my arm through airport security. It is now an official prosthetic provided by the United States Army," he says and finishes with a smile.

Pearl raises an eyebrow. "You mean he forged official military documents for you?"

As Bucky casually nods, like it's no big deal, the screen that separates the passengers from the driver, starts coming down.

"With this traffic, I estimate we'll arrive at the airport in about thirty-five minutes. The bar is stocked with champagne, so feel free to help yourselves," Happy says, quickly glancing over his shoulder.

After a lovely champagne fueled ride, a swift and easy visit to the check-in counter and an almost hassle-free thirty minutes spent in line at airport security, where the TSA agents quickly glanced over Bucky's paperwork before directing their focus onto Pearl's make up bag and the amount of liquids in it, they finally get on the plane.

Bucky tucks Pearl's luggage into the overhead bin before taking a seat next to her. "I'm excited to meet your family."

"Yeah, me too. I'll try not to ruin it for you," she says with a dry smile, reaching into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her and pulling out the in-flight magazines.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'll try my very best not to start a fight with my mom," she says, flipping through the stack of catalogs and bad airline journalism.

His brow furrows. "What do you fight about?"

"I told you, she's a complete shut-in and I think it's completely fucked up, while everybody else just acts like it's not," she says with a shrug.

"And?"

"What do you mean and?"

"There's more."

She stops flipping and sighs. "Yeah, okay. It's kind of stupid, really. She keeps pushing me to get married and sends me pictures of prospective husbands, a lot of them being old classmates of mine."

"Alright, she's a little overbearing. That's normal, right?"

"Sure, but it's just that she expects all of us to live normal lives, while she sits in that house, thinking about all the ways Philip's death could've been avoided," Pearl says. "And we live by the same mantra, life is short. She just thinks that's the reason I should get married and have kids and I..."

Pearl trails off, not knowing how to end the sentence. It used to end with her not wanting to make any long-term plans or commitments and just going with the flow, doing what seems fun at any given moment, but lately, she's found herself actually thinking about the future.

"You don't want children?" Bucky asks.

Pearl shrugs. "I don't know. I think so. I just know I don't want them right now."

"And she doesn't listen?"

"I know she just wants me to be happy, but I can't get over the hypocrisy. She doesn't want us to have any regrets, but she didn't even come to Philip's funeral, and I've never forgiven her for that." And she might never forgive it, but she decides to leave that part out. She looks down at her hands, hoping there's something on her cuticles that will distract her from kind of wanting to cry. "And I just keep waiting for something big to happen. Something, that will finally get her out of there, but it never comes. I got shot, but even that wasn't enough."

Bucky places his hand on hers. "Everybody deals with grief differently, Pearl. I'm sure she's doing the best she can."

"I know she is, but so am I. I can't just sit by and watch." Pearl looks at Bucky and gives him a weak smile. "But I'm going to try to remain calm for your sake."

After a short flight, the plane lands in Cleveland and Bucky and Pearl grab a taxi to take them to Gates Mills. During the drive, they pass Pearl's old school, the graveyard and the local 7-11, as well as many other exciting sights. Bucky spends the entire ride over glued to the window, as if there's something utterly fascinating about basic suburban homes, well-kept lawns with sprinklers and minivans parked in the driveway. Perhaps there is, and Pearl has just never been able to truly appreciate her hometown, which is technically a village, but she never calls it that because the word makes it sound like a poor little community straight out of an 18th century novel and while it's definitely little and most certainly old-fashioned, it's by no means poor.

The green paint has worn off a little more and there's a new set of patio chairs on the porch, but other than that, home looks the same it's always looked. The same old curtains still hang in the window of Pearl's old room on the second floor. They have red and white stripes on them, because mom let her redecorate right in the middle of her White Stripes phase, as in the one where she wore nothing but red and white and wanted to marry Jack White and have his babies and dress them up in red and white. That phase didn't last long, but the curtains are apparently still holding up. Nothing's really changed, not since the last time she was here, but walking up to the door feels different, somehow.

She knocks on the door as Bucky carries her luggage up the steps, carefully surveying his surroundings.

Pearl tries her best to smile as the door opens. "Hi, mom."

"I wasn't expecting you yet!" mom says, as if it isn't apparent by her bewildered expression. She looks to Bucky, who stands there with a big, genuine smile on his face, and seems to be studying every inch of his being.

"There was no traffic," Pearl says.

"Right, of course, this time of day. Come in, come in!"

Mom grabs Pearl by the arm, ushering them into the small foyer of the house. Bucky follows, still smiling. He places her luggage on the tile floor.

"Mom, this is Bucky." Pearl gestures towards Bucky, then to mom. "Bucky, this is my mother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Palmer," Bucky says, extending his hand. Mom takes it.

"Please, call me Mary. It's so lovely to meet you," she says, almost beaming. "You're even more handsome than I pictured. My husband didn't really do you justice."

"You're too kind."

As mom continues staring and smiling at Bucky, who actually doesn't seem to mind and just compliments her on a lovely home, Pearl takes a quick look into the kitchen and living room. "Where _is_ dad?"

"He's still at the office."

The casual expression on mom's face is as if this information should already be known to Pearl. As if it's completely normal, that her retired father is still at the office. Still, as in he's been there a while and not just to bring donuts for everyone.

Mom sees the confusion written all over Pearl's face. "I told him to go back to work, now that Patrick's not there. I don't need a round-the-clock babysitter."

And there she goes again with that casual tone. Dad retired early to stay home with mom and now she suddenly doesn't need him anymore? Pearl doesn't have a chance to make words come out of her mouth, which is just hanging open out of shock, when a timer goes off in the kitchen and mom excuses herself to check on the oven. The lovely scent of homemade bread fills the house.

Bucky carries Pearl's luggage and his backpack upstairs to her room. Other than the faint scent of Lysol in the air, which suggests mom's been cleaning, and the bed being made, which Pearl never does, the room is unchanged. A poster of Sin City still hangs on the gray wall next to her old desk and her closet is probably still full of skirts that are way too short and t-shirts with holes in them. Her diary is probably still hidden behind her so-called church clothes, along with some cigarettes, a condom or two and old concert tickets, and unless mom has dug it out and put it on display, her old yearbook is probably still hidden in the bottom drawer of her desk, under a stack of old issues of Cosmo. For some reason, the room feels bigger than it used to.

Bucky's voice snaps her out of thought. "Your mom isn't exactly what I pictured."

"Yeah, I know she's not exactly glued to the couch and rotting away, but trust me, she's been there. She's not usually quite this happy, though," Pearl says, because it's true. During her last visit, mom was better and she is usually alright when the grandchildren come and visit, but she's never nearly as cheerful as she seems to be today. It's unnerving, really, because while it seems like mom is doing really well, it could very well be the exact opposite. Maybe she's just putting on a show, trying to marry her spinster daughter off to the nice and handsome man she's brought home.. hoping he won't see the crazy that seems to run deep in her family and he'll take her off their hands. Whatever it is, Pearl is worried. A part of her just wants to fall down onto her old bed and wait for the other shoe to drop, but she's not here for that. She's here for Philip.

"We're going to Pip's grave," she yells out, walking downstairs again with Bucky right behind her.

Mom appears from the kitchen, wearing an apron. "Just be back by six, dear."

"Why?"

"It's dinner time, silly. That hasn't changed." Mom gives them a warm smile. "I've invited everyone."

"Everyone? Isn't Patrick in rehab?" Pearl asks.

"It's not prison, dear. He's allowed to leave."

As Pearl tries to figure out when and how she stepped into the twilight zone, Bucky promises they'll be back by six. They grab some bikes from the garage and ride them to the graveyard. The church bells begin ringing as they walk to the far edge. Pearl knows the route by heart. Turning right at the church steps, she walks three-hundred feet and turns left at the Eidelman's family grave, right at the Abbott's and then keeps walking until she finds the white granite headstone that still breaks her heart a little every time she sees it.

 _ _Philip Benjamin Palmer__

 _ _03/12/1996 — 03/16/2011__

 _ _How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard__

Pearl wants to say something, but the words get stuck in her throat, so she just stands there, staring at the grave. Somebody has brought him tulips recently, probably dad.

"That's a beautiful quote," Bucky says and grabs her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Pearl glances at him, clearing her throat. "Oh, uh, yeah. It's from Winnie the Pooh."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. Philip was such a dork, he would've loved it. I remember this one time, his teacher made everyone write an essay about a famous philosopher or something and Pip wrote his on Winnie the Pooh. And he got an A, of course," Pearl says and rolls her eyes. She smiles and lets out a little laugh. "I mean, if I would've done that, the nuns would've yelled at me for not following the rules and asked me if I was being funny or just stupid, but Philip probably could've gotten away with murder in this town."

Bucky smiles, squeezing her hand. "He sounds like a great kid."

Pearl nods. "He was."

"I'll wait over there. Take all the time you need."

Bucky walks over to the church, leaving Pearl to stare at the headstone once more. Finally, she finds the words.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here in a long time. I know I told you I'd never be too busy to visit you, but I missed your birthday and everything. I hope you can forgive me," she says and tries to swallow back the tears that are trying to force their way out of her eyes. She looks over to Bucky and sees him surveying the church's bulletin board and the idea of him attending a church function almost makes her laugh.

"So, I met a guy, and I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna ask me what makes this guy different from the last, and it's... It's everything. You'd really like him. He's like straight out of a sci-fi movie and the closest thing you're gonna get to a time traveller. You two would have so much to talk about. Anyway, uh, he actually suggested we come here, and I just..."

She closes her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath.

"I wish you could be here to see this and I know you're probably mad at me for getting fired from the CIA and I know it was a much cooler job, but things happen. I'm going to work for Tony Stark, if that helps. You'd like him, too. He's a real smart-ass like you."

She pauses.

"I wish you could be here, Pip."

On the way home, they stop at the store and pick up some wine, because whatever's going on at home, Pearl is sure she's going to need alcohol to get through it. Bucky picks up some chocolates for mom.

Dad's car is in the driveway and they find him seated in the living room, reading the newspaper, just like he always used to do after work. He looks up and smiles at Pearl.

"Hello, sweetie," he says.

Pearl sits on the arm of his chair and reaches over to hug him. "Hi, dad."

Bucky stands in the doorway, looking kind of uncomfortable. "Mister Palmer."

Dad nods in Bucky's general direction with a face made of stone, which doesn't really appear to put Bucky at ease, but Pearl knows he's just teasing. She stifles her laughter and opts for an encouraging smile.

Bucky holds up the bag of groceries they picked up. "I'll put these in the kitchen."

"You look happy," Dad says.

"I do?"

He gives her a little wink before returning to the newspaper, and just as she's about to ask about the whole returning to work thing, the doorbell rings. As soon as the door opens, Olivia rushes to hug her, nearly knocking her off her heels.

"Auntie Pearl!" she screams. Pearl ruffles her hair. "Hey!"

Patrick and Nina step inside with Jack in tow and Nina laughs at her daughter, who has now stepped in front of the mirror to fix her hair. Patrick looks the same as always, just a little tired and with more facial hair, and Nina looks way better than anyone with two children and a husband in rehab should. The whole family is dressed like they're going to an event at the country club or something, but the waspy look really suits them. They exchange their polite hello's and how are you's.

"Is it true? Do you _really_ work with Captain America and Iron Man?" Jack asks, interrupting his mother as she tries to tell Pearl about how the kids are doing at school.

Patrick pats his son on the back. "She works _for_ them. There's a difference."

Technically, he's right, but that's no reason to be a dick about it. Pearl stares at her brother, trying to convey in one expression her confusion, hurt and the little bit of anger that's starting to bubble up.

Nina places her hand on Patrick's arm and speaks softly. "Honey, why don't you take the kids to wash up before dinner?"

Before he can even suggest it, the kids run off, screaming "Grandpa!" as they go. Patrick drags himself into the living room after them.

Nina leans in closer. "I'm so sorry about him. He's been in a mood lately."

Jack comes running back in. He looks up at Pearl. "Why are you wearing a turtleneck? It makes you look fat."

"Jack!" Nina shouts out.

Pearl points to the living room and gently pushes Jack's shoulder. "Go find your sister."

Nina shakes her head and sighs again. Suddenly, she looks very tired. "I'm sorry. You don't look fat. It's like he has no filter sometimes."

"I think he gets that from his father," Pearl says with a wide smile, making Nina laugh.

A short while after, Penny arrives with Adam, their two little ones and one gigantic pregnant belly, and they all settle down to eat.

"Are you sure we have enough?" Pearl asks, looking at the massive amount of food on the table. As if homemade bread, pot roast and a casserole of some sorts wasn't enough, there's also five different side dishes, three of which appear to be potato cooked in various ways, and two types of salad.

"Stop it, Pearl." Penny gives her a meaningful look before turning to mom. "This looks lovely, mom."

Of course Penny would try to turn an innocent joke into some kind of an insult, but Pearl doesn't have the chance to respond when Jack, who's been carefully observing Bucky since their official introduction about ten minutes ago, speaks.

"Cool hand."

Bucky smiles, kind of. "Thanks."

"Where'd you get it?" Olivia asks from across the table, extending her neck out to see a little better.

"It's kind of a long story. I won't bore you with the details," Bucky says. Pearl notices Dad and Patrick exchanging a look.

"Is it robotic?" Olivia asks.

"Did Tony Stark build it for you?" Jack asks.

"Does it shoot lasers?" Grace pipes up, holding up a fork full of mashed potatoes. Pearl wonders how a four-year-old even knows what a laser is.

"Hush, now. All of you," mom says with a stern tone. "And sit up straight."

The kids immediately straighten themselves and return to their food, still carefully trying to sneak a peek at Bucky's arm.

"So, you two met at work?" mom asks, smiling.

Pearl nods and smiles. "We did." It's the official story and she's sticking to it, since it's technically even true. Mom nods along, satisfied and eating her pot roast, but Patrick seems to be sizing up Bucky.

"What exactly do you do, Bucky?" he asks.

"He's a weapons specialist," Pearl says quickly and immediately regrets it. Why couldn't she say he's an IT guy or something? Why is the first thing that pops into her head a weapons specialist?

Patrick raises both eyebrows and seems to be processing the information. He scratches his chin. "Wow. That's quite a job. Weapons specialist for The Avengers."

"I guess so," Bucky says. The kids are listening intently now, as is dad. Penny is wiping mashed potatoes off of little Zach's shirt and Adam seems to be quietly opening another one of the wine bottles Pearl brought.

"It's very impressive," dad says. His words come off as genuine, where as Patrick's do not.

"Is that what you did in the Army?" Patrick asks, his eyes narrowing.

Bucky shifts in his seat and quickly glances over at Pearl. "Not really. I was a sniper, mostly."

"Huh." Patrick turns his focus onto Pearl. "And didn't you start working there like two months ago?"

"I did," she replies.

"So, you two have been dating for, uh, how long exactly?" Patrick asks, a wide yet completely fake smile appearing on his face.

"It's been a few weeks," Pearl says, through gritted teeth, because she knows where this is going, and sure enough, Patrick looks to mom.

"Did you hear that, mom? A few weeks."

To Pearl's surprise, mom simply looks at her and Bucky with what appears to be sympathy, before turning to Patrick. "I knew I wanted to marry your father by the end of our first date, Patrick. Sometimes you just know."

After dinner, Pearl helps mom wash up in the kitchen as Bucky lets the children arm wrestle him in the living room; dad and Adam discuss the best options for new rain gutters for the house; Patrick sulks on the sofa and Penny and Nina ramble on about kids and how you're supposed to raise them and the horrible pressures that come with being a mother.

They have a good system going. Pearl scrubs the dishes and mom rinses and dries them. It's nice, though silent, but not because they're mad at one another. The kitchen radio is on, playing a familiar tune from the sixties, probably.

Pearl breaks the silence. "There were tulips at Philip's grave."

The words just come out, she's not even sure why. She kind of regrets it immediately, because talking about a) Philip and b) his grave tends to lead to a fight and she doesn't want to start a fight. Not right now, not with Bucky here. Not when everyone is almost getting along. To Pearl's surprise, mom just looks at her and smiles. Pearl notices she's wearing the necklace Philip once made her at camp. It's a single macaroni, painted white with a leather string pulled through it and it's actually kind of cool and creative, considering it was made by a nine-year-old out of macaroni.

"I know, dear. They're from the arrangement he helped me plant."

"Dad took them there?" Pearl asks.

Mom continues drying the dishes and opens up the silverware drawer. "No, I did."

Pearl drops the plate she's holding into the sink full of water. Water splashes on her sweater and around the counter. She stares at mom in disbelief. "You... You left the house?"

Mom leans on the counter. She takes a deep breath and locks eyes with Pearl. "When I heard you were shot, I wanted to run to you. I wanted to be by your side, and I tried to leave, but I-" She pauses. "Stepping out of that door reminded me of how I felt after Philip's accident. When I had to go and identify his body."

The last words seem to get stuck in her throat. Pearl can't believe what she's hearing.

"I didn't want to see another one of my children lying there dead," mom says. Her eyes begin watering, so she blinks a few times. "Then, when you woke up, I felt incredibly selfish. I thought about how horrible it was, that you had to go through that without your mother and how horrible it would've been, if you had died and I wasn't there."

"Mom." Pearl grabs mom's hand and squeezes.

"That day, I drove myself to the post office. I bought a 'Get Well' card. It's in your desk. The next day, I visited your brother's grave for the first time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Pearl asks.

Mom's brow furrows. "It's been a big adjustment. I was afraid I might fail and be judged for it."

"I wouldn't-"

"Yes, you would. Don't try to deny it." Her words don't come out laced with malice, in fact, she smiles. "When Philip died, you started a whole new life. I did, too. Yours might have been out there, in the world, while mine was inside this house, but we're two sides of the same coin. You live like there is no tomorrow, and I live in constant fear that you're right, but that stops now."

"Really?"

"I'm trying." A few tears come streaming down mom's cheek. Pearl feels her own eyes watering, and mom wraps her arms around her, so lovingly it's like she's five again and just fell off her bike.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you," Pearl says, trying very hard not to sob.

"Neither of us is perfect." Mom pulls away from the hug, but squeezes tighly on Pearl's arms and looks sternly into her eyes. "But you'll be one step closer if you never use that word again. I taught you better than that."

Pearl laughs and wipes the corner of her eye with her sleeve. The corner of mom's mouth tugs up as she returns to the silverware drawer.

Pearl picks up the sponge again. "Just so you know, Philip hated tulips."

"What? He helped me plant them. He said they were beautiful."

"Yeah, because _you_ love tulips."

Mom laughs.

After everyone leaves, Pearl and Bucky retreat to her old room to get some sleep. Bucky seems exhausted by the children and immediately falls down onto the bed, hanging his feet off the edge as he doesn't even bother taking off his shoes. Taking off her heels and peeling the ungodly pantyhose off her legs, Pearl looks at the man sprawled out on the bed. His breathing gets heavier and there's a weird blue stain on his shirt, probably from Play-Doh or something.

She looks around the room, again, and it hits her. She's at home, in her old room, with a man who she didn't have to sneak in through the window and who really cares for her, as in enough to spend two hours playing with her nieces and nephews without a single complaint. Her mom seems to be fine or on the way to fine. She's starting a brand new and exciting job soon. She's got money. She doesn't have an apartment, but having no apartment might even be better than having a really crappy apartment, especially when she's got money and she's pretty much guaranteed not to end up homeless. She's got friends, at least sort of, but they're better than nothing.

She's happy.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Bucky," she says. She doesn't even know if he can hear her, but he opens his eyes and lifts his head up.

His lips form a tired smile and his eyes barely stay open. "I keep my promises."

Pearl takes off the rest of her clothes, puts on an old t-shirt and climbs into bed next to him after pulling off his shoes. She snuggles up right next to his chest.

"I love you," Bucky mumbles, wrapping his arm around her. His lips gently graze her forehead.

Pearl freezes on the spot. She doesn't know how to respond.

Well, that's not exactly true. She knows exactly what she's supposed to say and if she said it, she would mean it, because she's in love with him, too, she has been for a while now, but the words refuse to leave her lips.

So, she says nothing. He falls asleep almost immediately. She hopes he might not remember it in the morning. Maybe he didn't even mean to say it. Maybe he's just very tired and it came out by accident. He was basically half asleep already. She's pretty sure he won't remember it, but the thought of having that conversation, the one where he asks how she feels and she can't tell him, keeps her up until two in the morning.

Pearl wakes up to the sound of birds chirping and a cool spring breeze coming in through the open window. She grabs her phone from the nightstand to discover the time is just a little after eight in the morning and drags herself out of the bed to close the window. This exact reason, the birds and the wind and the neighbors going on their morning walks, is why she made sure the window was shut last night. She turns back to crawl into bed again, back under the warm covers, back into the nook of Bucky's arm.

But he's not there.


	23. What Are You Doing, Peanut?

****CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE  
**** ** **WHAT ARE YOU DOING, PEANUT?****

* * *

If it was any other man, waking up alone wouldn't freak Pearl out. She'd just think he would've gone to work or snuck out before dawn to avoid the walk of shame or maybe even gone to get coffee or any number of normal things normal people do in the morning. If it was any other man, a kidnapping or a nightmare induced episode wouldn't even cross her mind.

But it's Bucky, so these things run through her brain, and she stands there for what seems like forever, frozen in one spot, while her eyes scan the room for further confirmation of his disappearance, hoping to prove her first instinct wrong. The bed is empty. The window was open. His shoes, that were definitely at the foot of the bed last night, are gone. His backpack is no longer hanging over her desk chair. His new phone is still on the desk, untouched from where it was last night. There is no note, nothing.

Some part of Pearl just wants to fall onto the floor and start sobbing uncontrollably, as if it's that part of the movie, where the woman gets told her husband isn't coming back from the war, but that part doesn't get to win today. There is no time for that. She forces herself to snap out of it and walks over to the desk. She presses on the home button of Bucky's phone to reveal an unread message from Steve.

 _(06:20) how's it going?_

Sent almost two hours ago. Not a good sign.

Pearl sits on the bed and finds Natasha's number on her phone. After one beep, Natasha picks up.

"Bucky's gone," Pearl says.

There's a short silence from the other end. "What? What do you mean he's gone?"

"I mean, I woke up and he's not here. The window was open and he's gone."

"Did you call him?" Natasha asks, as if Pearl is stupid enough to not realize she should've called Bucky instead of her.

"His phone's here."

"That doesn't mean anything. Maybe he went for a run."

Pearl sighs. "He wouldn't leave without his phone, not after Steve made him swear to keep it with him at all times."

"Well..."

"And he took his backpack," Pearl says, remembering another piece of evidence. Sticking to the facts during this call seems to be going great so far. If she were to tell Natasha her theories, the one where HYDRA agents abduct Bucky through her bedroom window without making a sound or the one where Bucky has another episode and jumps out and gets hit by a milk truck, she would surely turn hysterical. It's best not to think about it too much.

"What's in it?" Natasha asks.

Pearl shrugs but quickly realizes Natasha can't actually see her. "I don't know, personal stuff."

"Maybe he's just downstairs. Did you even check?" The irritation in her voice comes through despite bad cell reception.

"Natasha."

"Yes?"

"I can't go downstairs. I can't tell them I fucked up again."

She can't go and tell them the lovely man they just met, the one that made her so happy, has now abandoned her, because it'll only further prove all of them right and her status as the resident family fuck-up will be reinstated.

"You didn't-" Natasha pauses. She seems to take a deep breath. "It's not your fault he left. They don't know everything, so they can't understand, but you should."

Pearl taps out of the call, promising to report any new developments to Natasha. After rummaging through her luggage to find a pair of jeans, she puts on her shoes, grabs her bag and heads downstairs. She doesn't bother finding a high-necked top or a scarf or anything. Her old high school gym shirt will simply have to do. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, she hears noise coming from the kitchen and what sounds like a children's television show blaring in the living room.

She stands at the doorway for a second or two before they notice her.

"Oh, you're up already! I was just about to come knock on your door," Mom says happily and motions towards the table.

They're all there. Mom, Dad, Patrick, Nina and Penelope. No Adam, though, which would normally make Pearl very happy, but right now, it barely registers. No Adam, and no Bucky.

"I didn't realize you'd all be here," Pearl says. She doesn't move, she's not even sure she can. The words barely come out.

"Mom invited us over for breakfast," Penny says and reaches across the table to grab a mini muffin. Patrick seems to be in a better mood as he steals a piece of waffle off of Nina's plate, only responding with a grin when she protests. Dad reads the newspaper at the end of the table and Mom pours batter onto the waffle maker and slices up an apple and arranges it onto a plate with mini muffins, raisins and orange slices, probably for the kids.

"Great."

Pearl can't stop staring at the perfect breakfast scene happening in front of her. A happy family, eating and laughing, and she has to be the one to end it.

Of course this had to happen. Today of all days.

"So, where's loverboy? Too scared to come down?" Patrick asks with a laugh, glancing quickly over to Pearl.

She knows they're barely listening to her. They probably think she's just hungover or something. They don't expect anything to be wrong, so they keep making waffles and eating tiny muffins, filling out the crossword in their heads and checking their Instagrams and Facebooks and just doing their typical morning things. But once she says it, it will all stop.

"He's gone."

And she's right. The chopping sound from Mom's knife comes to a halt. Dad sets down his newspaper. They all look at her like they're trying to process it, like it's rocket science or something, but it's not. He's gone, it's that simple. The silence is deafening. The alphabet song carries over from the living room, topped with Jack loudly singing out the letters in the wrong order, topped with Grace yelling at him for being stupid and ruining the song, topped with Zach screaming because of all the singing and yelling. Penny gets up, doesn't say a word, and leaves the kitchen.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Patrick finally asks. His eyes narrow, focusing on the bruising on her neck. It's still quite visible. "And what the hell is that on your neck? Did he do that?"

"Sweetie?" Dad asks, his tone much less angry than Pat's.

Pearl doesn't say anything, though the quiver of her bottom lip probably gives something away anyway. She sees Mom's face fall with disappointment, Dad trying to remain hopeful and optimistic, Patrick already seething with anger and Nina looking like she doesn't belong in this situation.

"You really know how to pick them, don't you?" Patrick spits out.

"Patrick, that's unnecessary," Nina says firmly.

"I'm just saying. I love you, sis, but you do not make the best decisions," Patrick says.

He sounds annoying and he looks at Pearl like she's a child, like she's one of his children. He wasn't always like this. She remembers when he used to be her big brother. He helped her if she was in trouble and let her make all kinds of mistakes and never even told Mom and Dad. He used to be cool.

Pearl speaks through gritted teeth. "You're one to talk, Patrick. I swear, if your children weren't in the next room..."

"I paid for you to go to school, and then you decide you don't want to be a lawyer," he says in a mockingly light tone. He shrugs. "No biggie."

"If this is about money, I'll happily pay you back. I'll send you a check soon as I get home."

They stare at one another. Pearl doesn't feel like crying anymore. She feels like yelling and screaming and throwing things at the wall, or at Patrick, but controls herself. The children don't need to hear this. The alphabet song starts up again, even louder. Pearl hears Penny singing along.

"It's not about money. It's about you growing up and taking responsibility for your life," Patrick says, like he's the most responsible adult there ever was. Like he's not addicted to prescription drugs. Like he's not the one starting a stupid fight right now, like a child.

"Patrick!" Dad says, raising his voice. "This is not the time."

"Mom agrees with me." Patrick looks to Mom, who avoids eye contact with both of them, instead focusing on the floor. Pearl saw it coming, but it still hurts.

"I know. Trust me, I know," she says.

"What are you doing, Peanut? You had an affair that got you fired. That was a stupid decision, but to follow that with another stupid decision, like accepting a job as a secretary, that's just... You're better than that," Patrick says. "And now you've clearly picked another winner. Where exactly did he go, huh?"

Mom slams her fist onto the kitchen counter, startling everyone. "Patrick, that's enough!"

Patrick ignores her. "Is he even a veteran or was that another lie?"

Pearl takes a deep breath. "I really don't have time to have this fight with you right now, so I'll keep it short. Bucky is a veteran. He fought in World War II," she says and watches as Mom's mouth drops, the hopeful and optimistic expression returns to Dad's face and Patrick looks like he's just hearing a bunch of lies. He should know by now Pearl doesn't lie. She leans on the doorway, crossing her arms. "He's also a former assassin, who was brainwashed for seventy years by an organization named HYDRA. I'm sure you've read about them. I've been trying to help him for the last few months."

They obviously don't know what to say, not even Patrick.

"And not that it matters, but I'm starting a new job on Monday. I'm going to work for the legal department at Stark Industries, so you'll be happy to know your money didn't go to waste," Pearl says. "I'm going for a drive now, and you guys can sit here and wonder why I don't like to come around on the holidays, okay?" She turns to Dad. "Daddy, can I take the Mustang?"

He gives a confused nod. "Of course, sweetie, but you don't drive."

"I do now."

In her imagination, the whole family looks at her in awe as she grabs the car keys from the key holder on the wall and storms out defiantly. She sends a text to Natasha and seconds later her phone beeps with an answer.

 _(08:15) definitely gone_

 _(08:15) i'll be on the next plane out_

With her bag planted firmly on the front seat, Pearl drives through town. The bus depot is a complete bust, as on arrival Pearl discovers that the first bus out of town no longer leaves at the crack of dawn like it used to. In fact, there's still thirty minutes until its departure. Walking back to the car, the stupidity of even bothering to check the bus depot hits her. HYDRA agents definitely don't take the bus and Bucky is a grown man, not a teenage girl running away from home. If he hasn't been abducted — which the evidence doesn't really support — or wandering around town in full Asset mode — which isn't likely, since it's a small town and Pearl would've either seen him already or heard about the damage he would've caused — then he has left voluntarily and grown men who have cash and credit cards most likely won't be taking the bus, especially when the bus doesn't go further than Detroit. The CIA would be so proud of her right now.

Her bag starts ringing, as if to snap her back to reality and to stop her from going down that path, to stop her from thinking about why he left and focus on where he could've gone. Pearl rifles through it to find her phone. Steve's name at the top of the screen feels bigger than they normally do. Her ringtone seems louder, the vibration stronger. The picture of Steve smiling — which she took when he wasn't looking that one time — makes her heart sink to her stomach.

After a brief window of hesitation, she picks up. No point in delaying the inevitable, though the thought of changing her name and escaping to Europe does cross her mind.

Steve sounds irate. "Why is Bucky's GPS at Cleveland airport while yours seems to be at a bus stop?"

"You know how unreliable those things can be," Pearl says jokingly, already starting up the car.

"So, he's with you?"

"Uh, not in the most conventional meaning of the word." She backs out onto the main road, holding the phone up to her ear with her shoulder.

There's a slight pause from Steve's end. "Pearl, what exactly is going on?"

"I don't know where he is. Natasha can fill you in."

Another pause, this time longer than the first. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Just send me the GPS data. I'm already on my way to the airport," Pearl says. "I'm sorry, Steve."

After twenty minutes of going way over the speed limit, Pearl arrives at the airport. Following Bucky's GPS on her phone, she rushes straight to the security check, where they tell her she can't go through without a ticket because life isn't a movie and they don't care about her little love story and how chasing her boyfriend down at the airport at the last minute probably won't save the relationship, anyway. And they call her ma'am, which really pisses her off, but she doesn't have time to do anything about it. Then she goes to the ticket desk, where they can't understand why anyone would want the cheapest ticket available no matter the destination and keep looking at her like she's speaking Mandarin to them, no matter how slowly she explains the situation. In the end, she ends up paying $3299 for a ticket to Miami, because for some reason it's the first city that pops into her head. The ticket agents wish her a lovely trip.

The dot representing Bucky's location on Pearl's phone seems to be moving and stopping frequently. Pearl follows it to gate number nineteen, where it has stopped again. She looks around but beyond a few weary backpackers sleeping on the benches and a cleaning lady emptying out the trash cans, there's nobody at the gate. She looks over and gate twenty is packed with Asian business men, while gate eighteen has just finished boarding a flight to Boston.

The dot is right there, right where she is, but he's not there. It doesn't make any sense. Then it starts moving again at a slow pace. And then it stops at gate twenty.

Pearl watches the cleaning lady empty out the trash cans at the gate before moving on again with her little cart. The dot moves with her.

Bucky's tracker is in the trash.

A few hours later, Penelope brings Pearl a cup of tea. Pearl hates tea, and Penelope should really know that, but she accepts the cup anyway. She knows it's not really about the tea and more about the fact that she came home, didn't say a word and planted herself onto Philip's old armchair on his room. It's got the best view of the street outside, by far, as if that matters. It's not like Bucky's just going to come strolling down the street.

Penelope watches for a second as Pearl continues to stare out the window. She turns to leave.

"Why didn't you ever go to France? You always wanted to live there and you were going to do it. What happened?" Pearl asks suddenly.

Penny's brow furrows. "I met Adam, you know that."

"You met Adam and gave up on all your dreams?" Pearl asks. She knows the story, she just never understood why.

Penny gives her a warm, compassionate smile, reminiscent of the one Mom knows so well. "I fell in love, Pearl. You'll understand one day."

It's not long until Natasha arrives at the house. Pearl hears Mom letting Natasha in, Natasha going through Pearl's room searching for clues or whatever, Penny trying to get some more information, Patrick leaving and Natasha talking on the phone. She comes in, sits on Philip's bed, tells Pearl that people are on the case and then goes through their whole plan on how to find him. When she tells Pearl Sam is at the airport, trying to find out where Bucky bought a ticket to, Pearl can only think back to the idiotic ticket agents and suddenly the whole mission seems doomed.

As Natasha talks, Pearl looks out the window again. "I couldn't say it."

"What?"

Pearl turns to see the confusion on Natasha's face. "He said he loves me and I couldn't say anything back. Is that why he left?"

It's a weird thought and Pearl knows it's probably not true. He was half asleep when he said it and completely asleep half a minute later and to think that's why he left is crazy. But if he left voluntarily, and the evidence suggests that he did, why did he?

Natasha's voice brings her back to reality. "Pearl, no."

"Yeah, I know, he wouldn't, right? He's got Steve and, yeah, I know. But this is my fault, right?" Pearl says. "I made Bucky come here and Steve is going to hate me and he should, you know? I did this."

Natasha doesn't respond.

"What is it?" Pearl asks.

Natasha shrugs. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. Just say it."

"This was a stupid idea and I can't believe you actually came here," Natasha says after brief hesitation. "He tries to kill you and you hop on a plane with him and introduce him to your parents. Who does that?"

"Me. I do that," Pearl says with a shrug.

Natasha glances at Pearl's neck. "I can't believe you're still alive."

"I'm tougher than I look."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "I've seen Bucky punch a hole through concrete. He could literally snap you in half. On some level... I don't know. Maybe he knew you."

Or maybe he was just trained not to kill everything in sight. Or to ask questions first and then proceed to the killing. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter now.

Though Pearl is tempted to use her ticket and fly to Miami, Natasha manages to convince her to return to New York. As she packs up the small amount of stuff she managed to unpack yesterday, Dad shows up at her door.

"How are you, sweetie?" he asks.

Pearl stops packing. "I feel like a failure."

"You haven't done anything wrong." Dad sits down onto Pearl's bed and pats the space next to him.

She sits next to him. "Mom is really disappointed, right?"

"She's just trying to process this information. It might take a little time." Dad smiles.

"Why aren't you out there processing?" Pearl asks. He seems awfully calm about the whole thing, especially when compared to Patrick, who left in a furious huff, and Mom, who has kept her distance.

"I've had a little more time. Well, except for the assassin part. That was new."

It takes a few seconds for Dad's words to really register and even then, they really don't. "What?"

Dad tilts his head. "My father was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army. I grew up hearing about Captain Rogers and Bucky Barnes. I've known it was him since the hospital."

What? How? When? What?

Pearl stares at her father with her mouth dropped to the floor. "You didn't say anything."

"I assumed it was classified information," he says with a shrug. "I don't know what is happening or where he went, but I do know one thing."

"What's that?" Pearl asks.

"He would have to be insane to voluntarily walk out on you."

As Pearl arrives back at the compound, she takes small relief in the fact that Steve appears to be MIA. The place is uncharacteristically empty. Walking through the halls feels strange, as if she never really noticed how big the place really is, since it used to be so full of people. People, who made it into a home, and while it was never her home, Bucky made it feel like one. And now he's gone, Steve's going to be mad and Natasha basically agrees with him. Pearl realizes she can't stay.

She starts gathering up the things and clothing items she's scattered all around the place, throwing them into her luggage on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

Pearl turns to see Steve standing by the doorway. He looks at the luggage, that probably won't be able to fit all of Pearl's stuff, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm leaving, so we don't have to do the whole thing," Pearl says and continues packing. Trying to fit a pair of boots into the side compartment of her luggage turns out to be an impossible task.

Steve takes a few step forward. "What thing?"

"The thing. The fight. You telling me I messed up and asking me to leave," Pearl says. "I'm going home, while I still have one, so you don't have to see me or talk to me and we can just, you know, go on with our lives."

"What?"

She turns to him. "Well you're mad at me, right?"

His forehead scrunches up. "Not really."

"What? Why not? I'm totally mad at myself. I made him come with me," Pearl says. She can't even believe what Steve is saying right now.

"He made the decision himself."

Pearl kind of feels like she's stuck in an episode of the Twilight Zone. She stands there with a boot in one hand and a bottle of hairspray in the other and stares at Steve, who is not mad. The same Steve, who didn't talk to Sam for over a week after the HYDRA thing, stands calmly in front of her. He should be mad. There's no reason for him to not be. Pearl would completely agree with him, if he was, but he's not.

Steve sits down onto the couch. "After his incident, I asked him not to leave, but once he saw how happy it made you... His mind was made up."

She wants to grab him and shake him until he hears the stupid things that are coming out of his mouth.

"But that's just it, I could've changed his mind. He did it for me," she says, getting agitated with him.

Steve shrugs. "He would do anything for you. I can't blame you for letting him."

"It would make me feel a lot better if you could, because then we'd at least agree on something."

Pearl throws herself down onto the couch, right next to him. Steve laughs.

"Fine. Let's just say we're all at fault," he says. "You don't have to leave, alright?"

"Steve..." Pearl shakes her head.

"No, come on. I like having you here."

"Yeah?"

"It's never dull." The corner of his mouth curves upwards.

"I like you, Steve. I really do." Pearl sighs. "But I can't stay here. I can't walk past his room every day."

Steve nods. "I get that."

Suddenly, he wraps an arm around her.

"God, I can't believe I'm alone again." Pearl leans her head against his shoulder. "I mean, I'm used to it, but it feels so much worse when it's not by choice."

"You're not alone." Steve gives a reassuring squeeze on her arm. "I'll find him. I promise."


	24. Stark Tower, Homeless Shelter

**C** **HAPTER TWENTY-FOUR  
** **STARK TOWER, HOMELESS SHELTER**

* * *

The elevator doors slowly slide open and Pearl is greeted by a confused yet dapper looking Tony Stark, dressed in one of his snazzy suits as always. He looks at her hand, at the luggage handle it's resting on and finally at the bright yellow luggage before raising an eyebrow at her surprise appearance inside his elevator.

"I gave up my apartment and now I don't have a place to live," Pearl explains.

He gestures towards his living area. "Come in."

Pearl rolls her luggage inside and sets it by the modern leather couch. She looks out of the window at his amazing view of the city before sitting down. Tony pulls out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from his liquor cabinet.

"Where's all your stuff?" Tony asks, pouring the drinks. He brings them over, setting the bottle on the side table. Pearl drinks hers like a shot before pointing to her suitcase. Tony looks over. "That's it?"

She shrugs. "I sold everything else."

Tony looks at her like she's gone insane. Like she's experienced some sort of anti-materialistic epiphany and decided to run off and join a cult or something.

But it's not that. In the last forty-eight hours, or technically fifty-seven since Bucky's disappearance, Pearl has slept for about six in total. After she left the compound, because staying there would've been too emotional, her whole life has revolved around one thing: distraction. Unpacking was a good distraction, since trying to fit all her clothes in various places around her apartment proved to be like a challenging game of Tetris, and paying the bills that arrived while she was gone got her thinking about all the things she needed to do before her building turns co-op. Making a list of those things kept her distracted for a while. Cleaning her bathroom kept her distracted for a while longer.

When Pearl tried to sleep that night, the first night without him, there were no distractions. The only thing running through her mind was Bucky. Where he went, why he did it and if he would come back. What she could've done differently. If Steve would find him. How she was happy for about five minutes until everything turned horrible again.

So, she didn't sleep. Instead, she began cleaning her apartment from top to bottom, corner to corner. In the process, she went through all of her things and threw all the accumulated junk into the garbage. When she ran out of crumpled receipts and old prescription medicines, she started selling her things. From the thigh-high boots she never wore because they made her look stumpy to the twenty makeup bags she'd gotten for free from Macy's, they all went on Craigslist and moved into new homes. She sold all of her crappy furniture, thinking she could buy new ones for her new apartment. On Sunday, as day turned to night and a guy from Queens and his van-owning friend came to pick up her bed, Pearl realized she'd done everything on her list except one thing. She'd cleaned, she'd called the water and electricity companies along with her broadband provider, she'd terminated her lease and packed up or sold most of her stuff.

But she hadn't found a new apartment. She hadn't even looked. As the van pulled away and Pearl climbed up the stairs to her empty place for the last time, she knew why. She didn't want to.

Tony takes a sip of his whiskey and leans back in his chair. "So, what's the plan? Are you going back-"

Pearl cuts him off sharply. "Nope. Not going there."

"You can stay here," Tony says, meeting her eye. Pearl is still not used to seeing him be anything but a sarcastic wise-ass, so these moments of actual kindness and sincerity throw her off.

She smiles, looking down at her hands. "That's very nice of you."

"But?"

She looks up. "I can't."

"Then I'll get you a room at The Plaza," Tony says.

"That's not-" Pearl pauses. She takes a deep breath. "I think I want to leave New York." She bites on her lip, waiting for a response, but he simply looks slightly surprised before furrowing his brow like he's deep in thought. "I know we have a deal and I completely plan on honoring that deal, but maybe we could put postpone it until I get back? I hate to ask this, but I-"

Tony gestures for her to stop, shaking his head. "Kid, relax. It's not a big deal."

"Oh."

"Where do you wanna go?" he asks.

Pearl shrugs. She hasn't really thought it out that far. "I don't know. Somewhere far."

"Right. I'll see what I can do. Give me two days," he says.

"What?"

"I have an idea of sorts." He sets his glass down onto the coffee table. "Now, do you want to stay here for a few days or should I call The Plaza?"

"You know, I'm perfectly capable of getting my own hotel room," Pearl says.

"I do know that," he says. "But you came here."

Pearl sighs. She really just wants to sink deeper into the couch, but the stupid leather won't give. "I kind of don't want to be alone."

"So, you are staying." He reaches for the bottle.

"I guess," she says. He opens the cap. Pearl looks around, wondering where Tony's better half is. "Pepper won't mind?"

"She's in Singapore," Tony says and pours another drink for Pearl. She lifts it up to her lips. He gives her a look. "Take it easy, kid."

Pearl takes a small sip, not really sure if she should consider him patronizing or simply just caring.

"I take it you don't have a lot of faith in Rogers finding his pal," Tony says, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"What makes you say that?" Pearl asks, though she already knows the answer.

"It's been two days and you're already leaving."

"Steve is very determined. He'll find Bucky eventually, I know it," Pearl says, looking down at her hands.

"Eventually?"

"It might be months, especially if Bucky isn't even himself. We don't know anything." Pearl sets down her glass and runs her hand through her hair. "I just need to get away from all of this. I need a distraction."

Steve will find him, Pearl knows it. First of all, he promised he would, and second of all, he couldn't live with himself if he didn't, so it'll happen. He'll be back, she's sure of it, but she can't just sit around and wait for it. She needs something to keep her from counting the days, hours and minutes since his disappearance. Something to distract her from the fact that the first man she really loved just left. She needs something that isn't New York, where every Starbucks reminds her of the moment they shared in one, every American Apparel represents the clothes she bought him and every street in Brooklyn feels like it's his street.

Pearl knows leaving makes it seem like she's giving up. It's easy and uncomplicated, leaving everything behind and letting other people deal with it. Except that it's not. What if he does come back soon and she's halfway around the world when that happens? What if he thinks she gave up? And then there's the other side, as in what if he never comes back? What if he's dead? What if she spends the rest of her life pining after him, never able to leave the city, just in case he comes back?

Pearl hates what ifs, but for the past few days, they're the only things that have been on her mind. Leaving isn't easy, but it sure beats the hell out of staying.

Tony nods. "So, you know that lawsuit you helped with?"

"Uh-huh."

"I won," he says with a satisfied smirk.

"Really?" Pearl asks, only slightly surprised. It really could've gone either way, depending on the judge. Even with the strong case Tony had, based on his character a different judge might have made a different decision.

He tips his glass in her direction. "Yes, and you were actually a really big help, so thank you for saving me bucket loads of money."

Pearl shrugs. "I didn't really do anything."

She _didn't_ really do much. She may have sent an email here and another one there and spent three, four, fifteen hours pouring over Tony's life and proven that he had in fact never seen the interns he was accused of discriminating against, nor had he ever seen the interns he was accused of hiring based on their looks, but it really wasn't anything special.

"My attorneys said otherwise and you should know how hard it is for lawyers to share the credit."

Pearl picks up her glass again and takes a small sip. She can't help but smile, partly because of Tony's gratitude, partly because of the whiskey and partly because he's really providing great distraction.

Tony finishes his drink. "So, you're obviously amazing at this law thing, but how did you end up at the CIA?"

"I just wanted to do something cool," Pearl says simply. Even if it isn't the catalyst that prompted her change of profession, it is actually true. Being a CIA agent sounded cool and completely different from being a lawyer, so that's what she did.

"What did you do over there?" Tony asks. He pours himself another drink. "You don't really strike me as the shoot 'em up type."

"I wasn't. I actually didn't even carry a gun," Pearl says. It was partly because of the psychological evaluations the agency would've made her take and she feared she would fail, and partly because they told her she'd be a better fit for something else, anyway. "I worked for internal investigations."

"Spy versus spy, that kind of thing?"

"Sort of. I was really good, too." Pearl can't help but sound a little smug. It could be just the alcohol speaking, but they really were fools to get rid of her.

"Yeah?"

"Well, I look kind of stupid and I can bullshit my way through anything, so nobody ever knew what I was. And people tend to trust me, for whatever reason."

"I bet you have some stories."

"Maybe a few. Most of it's just boring office stuff, but..." Pearl ponders for a second, pursing her lips together. The look on his face is so eager, she has to give him something. She clears her throat and leans in a little, like you do when you're sharing secrets. He does the same. "Once I got myself kidnapped on purpose by a terrorist cell."

She suspects there aren't many things in this life that can take Tony Stark by surprise, but apparently, this is one of them.

"What?"

"I had to," Pearl says with a simple shrug. "It was the only way to prove that one of ours was working for them. I investigated the guy for six months and he came out clean, so I had to take extreme measures."

"You had a gun for that, right?" Tony asks.

Pearl finishes her drink and blankly stares at him. "No."

"What if he had actually been clean?"

"Then I would've talked my way out of it, I guess." Pearl shakes her head. "It doesn't matter. I was sure I was right."

With his scrunched up forehead and slightly open mouth, Tony looks like he can't decide if he's been overestimating her all this time when she's actually just dumb and really lucky or if he's been underestimating her when she's actually a total bad ass. The reality is somewhere between those two scenarios. Pearl leans back in her seat and crosses her arms. She grins.

Tony clears his throat and a smile creeps up onto his lips. "One of these days, you have to tell me the full story." He notices the empty glass in her hand and points to it, already grabbing the bottle. "You want another one?"

"Sure. Maybe it'll help me sleep," Pearl says and extends out her glass with a sigh.

"You can't sleep?" he asks. She looks at him from under her brow. "Oh, right. Not talking about that."

"Thanks." She sighs. "I really appreciate this."

"Don't mention it," he says. "Can I just say, completely unrelated to anything, that I'm here if you want to talk. About anything."

She smiles and takes another sip of whiskey. "This is really good. How much does this cost?"

"Trust me, you don't even want to know."

It doesn't take two whole days for Tony to execute his idea of sorts. It doesn't even take him one. Approximately fifteen hours after they discussed it, around noon on Monday, Pearl has breakfast in Tony's very large kitchen. She sits at the table, wearing an old NYU t-shirt and a pair of men's boxers and eats the fanciest cereal she's ever eaten. The box is in Japanese, so she's got no idea what it says, but the cereal itself appears to have real strawberries and little pieces of caramel in it. Her hair is a mess and her makeup has been on her face since Sunday morning, so it's not perfect, but it's kind of rock and roll, in that effortlessly sexy kind of way, or so she'd like to believe. The large amount of whiskey they consumed last night has left her with a slight headache, but it's fine. She's got nothing to do and nowhere to be.

As Tony walks in with an unfamiliar man in tow, Pearl realizes he hasn't in fact been sleeping in his bedroom this whole time. She drops her spoon and the men stop a few feet from the table. Tony's face is full of amusement as he takes in Pearl's appearance and her baffled yet annoyed expression. The tall, blond man next to him looks skeptical.

Tony clears his throat, almost like he's stifling laughter. He gestures towards the unknown man. "Pearl, this is Gary. Gary is in charge of handling all the legal mumbo jumbo that happens when Stark Industries acquires a smaller company."

"Hello," Gary says formally, acknowledging Pearl's presence with a nod.

"Gary would love to take you under his wing," Tony continues, only managing to further Pearl's confusion. "You guys can talk."

As Gary sits down at the table and Tony swiftly disappears, Pearl knows she can go after Tony and yell at him for arranging this lovely surprise when she looks like she's been hit by a steamroller, effectively giving Gary an even worse first impression, or she can simply swallow her anger, greet Gary with the most professionalism that she can muster right now and hope that he's known Tony long enough to know this is one his shenanigans and not Pearl's fault.

She chooses the latter, extending out her hand and smiling widely. "Hi, I'm Pearl. Pearl Palmer. Excuse my appearance, I wasn't expecting guests." He takes her hand and shakes it, still looking like he's weirded out by the situation. Pearl clears her throat. "So, um, Gary... Do I just call you Gary?"

"He does. You can call me mister Cooper, if you prefer," Gary says. His phone makes a sound and he checks it. "Excuse me, I have to reply to this."

While Gary taps on his phone, Pearl seizes the opportunity to run her hands through her hair, as if that helps. He looks back up and she quickly sets her hands down onto her lap, once again trying to sound like a professional. "Alright. So, what do you do, exactly?"

"I handle small business acquisitions. I negotiate with shareholders and investors, buy patents and properties and draw up contracts. I promise it's more exciting than it sounds." Gary's stern expression falters slightly as his lips form the faintest smile.

"Where do you work?" Pearl asks. Tony did promise to get her out of New York, but the Stark Industries LA or Chicago offices aren't exactly what she had in mind.

"Well, ten years ago, mister Stark insisted I get an office here in New York," Gary says and continues with a shrug. "When I last saw it two years ago, it was being used for storage, but I don't know what's happened to it since then. The last two months I've been in London and I'm heading there again in..." He looks at his watch. "Six hours."

Pearl stares at Gary, wondering if he's actually saying what she thinks he's saying.

"Is that enough time for you to get your affairs in order?" Gary asks. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a plane ticket and hands it over.

Pearl stares at the ticket marked for London with her name on it in bold letters with her mouth agape. She excuses herself for a second. She finds Tony in his bedroom and stops at the door, speechless. He raises an eyebrow, so she holds up the plane ticket. He grins.

"You look like you're about to ask me why I'm doing this and the answer is because I'm awesome," he says. "And you made me a deal."

"Thank you," Pearl says, hardly getting the words out.

He looks surprised. "You're not going to fight me on this? Tell me you don't want my charity?"

"This is a way bigger opportunity than I deserve, but I don't have time to fight," Pearl says, still in a state of disbelief.

Normally she would do those things, but to be able to travel while working with and learning from the guy in charge of really major stuff at Stark Industries... it's an Opportunity with a capital O. Things like this don't just get handed to people, and she firmly believes they shouldn't get handed to people just because of nepotism or social standing or whatever, but right now, that doesn't even matter. Tony made it possible for her to get away from the city, while completely honoring their agreement and providing her with great distraction, and she's not about to turn it down.

"I'll send you an angry email from the plane," Pearl says, the corners of her mouth climbing up towards her ears.

"You do that," he says with a sincere smile this time.

Pearl turns to leave, but stops to look over her shoulder. "Seriously, thank you."

"Knock 'em dead, kid," he says with a wink.


	25. Fine All The Time

****CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE  
**** ** **FINE ALL THE TIME****

* * *

Summer in London is filled with extremely cramped public transport, tourists from every corner of the world, traffic jams, horrible heat conditions and sudden, completely random bouts of rainfall. It's fast paced, the work never stops and Pearl barely sees anything besides her hotel room or a conference room or an office at the company they're trying to buy as Gary turns out to be quite a demanding boss, or to put it more accurately, a complete slave driver—in the nicest possible way—but it's perfect. Because it's not New York. Because Gary, demanding as he may be, is actually a great guy. He expects a lot from her and she tries her best not to disappoint, spending her nights reading up so she'll be better prepared, but he's never mean or impatient. Because Pearl is too busy to think about anything besides corporate law and the many lovely things that it entails. Because she's too tired to even _think_ about thinking about something else.

"So, what made you leave New York?" Gary asks one day as they're having lunch in a nice little pub near the Paddington train station. It's weird, because they barely ever talk about anything beyond work and the minute they do, he manages to choose the subject she'd least like to talk about.

Pearl pokes at her salad and avoids his eyes. She shrugs. "I just needed a change."

He seems satisfied with the answer and moves right along. "So, did you call Donaldson?"

Just as Pearl learns to effectively navigate London and finds a great pub near their hotel, over a month has passed and they move on after miserably failing at the task at hand. She spends the fourth of July in a TGI Friday's in Stockholm, because it seems to be the most American thing there besides her and Gary, with a local lawyer named Linus, who insists on taking her out even though she's only in town for two weeks and isn't even remotely interested. She only agrees to it, because saying no might be bad for business. Linus is tall and lanky, but he has a nice smile and curly hair and a lovely Scandinavian accent that makes him sound funnier than he actually is. Pearl wears a nice, knee-length pencil dress and a very appropriate blazer in an effort to show him that it's not really a date and more of a work thing between two colleagues, but it doesn't seem to work, because he still acts like they're on a date.

"This is like home, yes?" Linus asks as they enjoy their mediocre burgers and their room temperature cokes along with their completely shallow 'tell me about your family, did you always want to go into law, what's your favorite color' type conversation that people have on bad first dates.

"Yes, absolutely," Pearl says with a forced smile.

She nods along as Linus blabs on and on about his life and maybe it's a language thing or maybe it's the fact that she's barely listening, but he seems to be kind of full of himself and he doesn't even really seem to care that she's not listening, so she keeps nodding and throwing in a fake laugh here and there until it's over.

Linus kisses Pearl outside her hotel and for some reason she lets him. She realizes it might send the wrong message, but it just happens really abruptly when she's in the middle of saying good night. The kiss is not good by any standards. He opens his mouth so wide she feels like he's trying to eat her and his bottom teeth bump her jaw. She lets him come up to her room, because he really wants to escort her all the way and her polite way of declining doesn't seem to get through to him. Before she knows it, they're on an elevator heading up.

Pearl stands by the door as he walks straight past her into her hotel room like he owns it and heads for the minibar.

"Do you want a drink?" he asks, already pulling out tiny liquor bottles.

She stares at him, wondering how exactly she ended up with this jerk in her room. "Those are ridiculously expensive."

"So?"

"I have to pay for them."

She doesn't, actually, but he doesn't know that and she thinks it's quite rude to just go digging around someone else's minibar, even if he did rightfully assume Stark Industries was footing the bill.

"Okay, I'm sorry. No drinks." Linus moves over to sit on Pearl's bed. He pats the space next to him. "Come here. Relax."

Pearl stares at him, again, wondering what the hell prompted him to do that. Was it her librarian like outfit or the fact that she told him, politely, not to bother coming up? Was it the permanently annoyed expression she's had on her face since the elevator?

"I'm going to go freshen up," she says and excuses herself to the bathroom. Checking over her shoulder one last time, she sees Linus leaning back on his elbows, inching his way further up on the bed.

Pearl stands by her sink with her hands grabbing the edge of the counter, staring at herself in the mirror. She looks fine, sort of. The professional outfit makes her look about ten years older, especially with her hair slicked back into a bun, and the bags under her eyes are really begging for some fancy eye cream or better yet, sleep, but other than that, she looks mostly the same as before. The world around her is the same, unchanged.

Except it's not, because nothing's the same. The whole situation feels unreal. She's fine. She's working. It hasn't even been two months since Bucky's disappearing act and she's barely thought about him. Steve's been texting, and she's been sending back one worded replies, like she doesn't care, when in reality she just can't deal with it. She can barely bring herself to read them. And this is what she wanted. She wanted to leave. She wanted to not think about it. She wanted to keep going, because breaking down was not an option. Because he'd be back, eventually. Because leaving would be easier than staying.

So, if this is what she wanted, why is she standing there, in a bathroom at the third fanciest hotel in Stockholm with a guy in the other room, clutching the edge of that freaking marble counter and staring at herself in the mirror, wondering why Bucky isn't back yet? Why is she standing there, unable to control the tears that start rolling down her cheeks? She blinks, making her mascara smudge. She blinks again and a tear runs down the edge of her nose, drawing a black line down to her lip. It tastes salty.

Pearl loosens her grip, eventually dropping her arms altogether. Her legs feel like they're about to give out at the knees, so she sits down, hiking up her dress, since it's basically impossible to sit on the floor in. She uses the sleeve of her appropriate blazer to wipe away some of the tears, but the effort is futile as they just keep coming. So, she sits there, on a damn comfortable bathroom mat, and lets the tears come. She's pretty sure Linus can hear the sobbing sound, especially since he keeps turning up the volume on the television, that he decided _now_ would be an appropriate time to start watching, but it doesn't matter.

She reaches up on the counter to pull down the phone (since fancy hotels apparently have a phone in the bathroom, possibly for situations much like this one) and dials Steve's number.

It doesn't take him long to pick up. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's me."

Pearl falls silent. She takes deep breaths, as if to hide her crying and shaky voice from Steve.

"Are you okay?" he asks after a short while.

For a split second, Pearl regrets calling and tries to think of a quick way out. She could just tell him she's fine and then ask if she accidentally left her hairbrush at the compound or she could pretend like she's drunk and just started calling people to wish them a happy fourth of July. She decides to ignore her instinct and follow whatever crazy part of her brain made her pick up the phone in the first place.

"Not really," she says.

"Can I help?"

Pearl hesitates. "Not really. I've been sitting on the floor of my bathroom for half an hour now and there's a guy in my room and he just won't leave."

Okay, that's problem number one.

"Just kick him out."

"I thought he'd get the hint by now. I'm pretty sure he can hear me crying."

And that's problem number two.

"Why are you crying?" Steve asks. Pearl doesn't know what to say. "Pearl?"

"I don't know!" she says, exasperated. "I'm not that girl, you know. I'm not the girl who just falls apart when things go wrong, so I don't even know. I didn't cry when he left, so why am I crying now?"

It seems stupid to ask him, because how would he know, but maybe he does. After all, he lost Bucky, too.

Pearl can hear Steve breathing.

"Because you're sad. You're allowed to be sad," he says. "Nobody expects you to be fine all the time."

Pearl can feel the tears coming again. She sobs into the phone and listens to Steve's breathing, again. It's strangely soothing. He doesn't say anything, but he's there.

"Where are you?" he finally asks as she slowly stops nearly hyperventilating and finds a normal rhythm of breathing.

She runs her hand through her hair, ripping out the elastic holding it in a bun. "A hotel in Stockholm."

"And why is there a guy in your room?"

Pearl sighs. "Because he wants to have sex with me."

"What?"

"Yeah, I don't really know what happened. I should just go tell him to get out."

Pearl knows that's what she should do, but what she wants to do is lean on the bathroom cabinet with her legs sprawled over the comfortable rug and maybe have room service bring her a bottle of wine and some cheesecake. She wonders how long she'd have to wait until Linus would finally get the message and leave.

Steve clears his throat in the most awkward way. "Were you planning on... with him?"

"No, Steve, I was not. I'm not that girl, either," Pearl says, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact that he can't even say it. He clears his throat, again, making her laugh.

On Halloween, Pearl Skypes with her nieces and nephews from Amsterdam while Penny gets them all ready to go trick or treating. Jack shows off his cardboard Iron Man costume while Olivia jumps around with a bow and arrow and a braid in her hair, yelling out 'I volunteer as tribute!' every once in a while. Grace prances around dressed as Elsa from Frozen, because apparently that's still a thing, tugging along her younger brother. Zachary does make the most adorable little snowman, though he doesn't really seem to care. He looks just as happy in his regular clothes as he does in costume. The newest additions to Penny's family, now four months old, sleep in the background, occasionally making baby noises.

"How are the twins?" Pearl asks, hoping Penny won't try to guilt her about not seeing them in person yet or about missing their baptism. She does feel bad about those things, at least kind of. They're just babies and while babies are cute and cuddly, they're basically all the same.

Penny smiles, like all mothers do when asked about their children. "They're doing good. Luke wakes up four times a night and he wakes Leah up, too, but other than that, they're perfect."

Pearl thinks it was a real missed opportunity, not naming them Luke and Leia, but she doesn't dare say it. She just smiles.

Jack pops up in front of the camera. "Auntie Pearl, when are you coming home?"

"I'll try to come see you as soon as I can," Pearl says and can't help but laugh at the round LED push light he's got stuck to his chest. It almost looks like the real thing.

"Okay," he says. "When you do, can you please bring uncle Bucky?"

"Uncle Bucky?" Pearl asks, looking at Penny, who gives an apologetic look. Of course the children don't know anything. Why would they?

"He was fun," Jack says with a toothy grin.

"He let me touch his arm," Olivia calls out from the background.

"He let me ride piggyback!" Grace pipes up.

Pearl tries her best to smile, knowing Penny won't buy it but the kids probably will. They quickly move onto showing her their Halloween crafts. After the call is over, Pearl cries again. This time she doesn't call Steve.

Over Christmas, Pearl stays in Berlin while Gary flies back to the States to visit relatives, and for some totally unknown and mysterious reason, Tony joins her, saying he's there to take part in the negotiations of the acquisition they're planning of a tiny tech start-up.

"We don't start until next week," Pearl says, because she doesn't really know where to start as the situation is completely new.

Tony's never there for these things. He occasionally flies in for an hour or two and in September, he spent a whole day arguing about the applications of his sustainable energy project on space travel with a guy he was buying—as he so lovingly referred to it when in reality, he just bought the guy's company, which just happened to be a one man operation—but more often than not he's not around, because he's not needed. He trusts Gary and, by extension, Pearl.

"I thought I'd get a head start," Tony replies. Pearl doesn't push it, because he's her boss and he's allowed to do whatever the hell he wants.

They spend Christmas Eve sorting out paper work, reviewing patent files, rental agreements and employee contracts. Or more accurately speaking, Pearl does all of that, while Tony spins around on a chair in her hotel room and posts his every thought on Twitter. They order room service and buy cheap wine from the nearest grocery store.

The sound of Pearl's Christmas themed ring tone interrupts her process of stuffing her face with fries with one hand and correcting Gary's spelling mistakes with the other. She reaches across her bed to grab her bag, only to dig out her phone and realize it's mom, again. She silences the phone, not really in the mood to be told the same thing as yesterday, the day before that and last week. The whole 'come home, Christmas is about family, you still haven't seen Penny's twins, we're going to Church and everything, it would be really good for you' spiel is getting really old.

Pearl gets up and walks over to the window, glass of wine in hand and looks out at the snow covered city. She sighs.

"I lied to my mom about having to work through the holidays," she says, as she's suddenly in a sharing mood. Must be the wine.

Tony looks up from his phone. "Really?"

"Yeah. She didn't buy it."

"Are you guys fighting?" he asks.

"No," Pearl says. She's currently fine with everyone except Patrick, who still hasn't apologized for acting like the biggest dickhead in the history of dickheads. She walks over and sits on the chair next to his. "I'm just not really in a family mood."

Tony nods understandingly.

"So, why are you in Berlin with me and not in New York with Pepper?" she asks, looking into his eyes, hoping the wine has gotten him in a sharing mood as well.

He doesn't seem thrown off by the question, but he takes a moment before answering, looking down and running his finger across the rim of his glass.

"That's not really a thing anymore," he says.

"I'm sorry."

He looks up, a strained smile appearing on his face. "Nothing to be sorry about, kid. Things end."

He looks right over her shoulder, focusing on the falling snow. Pearl grabs the unfinished bottle of wine from the table and pours them both a refill.

"So, _I'm_ seriously the best option you had? You could've gone anywhere," Pearl says, trying to lighten the mood, though it was never that cheery to begin with.

His fake smile seems to turn into a real one. "I think you underestimate how much I actually enjoy your company."

Apparently the wine really did get him in a sharing mood.

"Or you just haven't told anyone about your break up because you don't want their pity," Pearl says.

"Could be," he says, nodding. "Maybe I just want to get wasted and it's much less pathetic if I'm not alone."

Pearl tips her glass in his direction. "I'll drink to that."

They sit in silence for a while as Pearl looks over her shoulder at snowflakes gently falling outside the window. The faint sound of her phone vibrating on the bed breaks up the silence, but Pearl doesn't bother getting up to check it, because it's either Mom or Gary, the workaholic.

Tony clears his throat. "Speaking of being alone..."

Pearl turns her head to look at him. She smiles. It's so sweet of him to worry. Unnecessary, yet sweet.

"I'm fine," she says.

He raises an eyebrow. "You say that a lot."

"Yeah, and every time I'm lying a little less," Pearl says, still smiling.

He accepts her answer with a nod and she goes back to watching the snowflakes. There's something oddly calming about them, kind of like a visual reminder that life goes on, seasons change, snow falls, snow melts and so on. Pearl's not exactly sure why, but the sight of the falling snow makes her feel better about moving on. It could just be the wine making her crazy, but she relates to those snowflakes. They fall, because that's what they do, and she keeps going, because that's what she's always done.

Tony stays in Berlin for New Year's, too. They go to a big celebration at Brandenburg gate; the massive crowd makes Pearl miss New York for the first time. He kisses her when the clock turns midnight and she lets him. It doesn't mean anything, it's just a drunken New Year's thing, but even so, it's nice and definitely better than that kiss with Linus in Stockholm. Somehow, it makes her feel less alone in the world. The next day, he flies back to the States.

She doesn't see him again until February.


	26. Chinese New Year

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX  
CHINESE NEW YEAR**

* * *

"I can't believe I'm actually in China for Chinese New Year," Pearl says as she looks down at the festivities happening on the streets of Shanghai.

"It's pretty cool, right?" Tony asks.

"Very cool."

It is the exact definition of cool. It's Chinese New Year, in China, on the rooftop of what's probably the fanciest hotel in all of Shanghai, if not all of China, and there's nobody else up there, except the waiters who keep bringing them more and more drinks and amazing little finger foods without being asked to and they move so swiftly they're practically invisible. It's as if food keeps magically appearing in front of Pearl while fancy and colorful drinks fly in the air before landing in her hand. The parade hasn't even officially started yet, but the streets down below are full of life and color and music.

So, it's very cool, and she could get used to it. Tony is cool, as always, and Pearl is definitely getting cooler and cooler with every drink. The sequined strappy dress she's wearing is very cool, quite literally, but the roof is heated, so it's fine.

Pearl takes a sip of the sweet and fruity drink that appeared in front of her just as she finished the bubbly and sour one. Bopping along to the music from the streets, she looks across the table at Tony, who is apparently doing something super important on his phone and not really present in the moment. She picks up a cocktail napkin and crumples it into a ball before throwing it at him. She tries to aim for his face, but it flies straight past his ear, probably due to wind or an incorrect throwing trajectory. It could be the alcohol or it could be that she was never that great at math. The flying napkin does manage to snap him out of thought; he looks at her with a raised eyebrow and a definite 'why are you throwing things at me' face.

"You still haven't told me what we're doing here. Is Gary even here yet? Is he flying in later?" she asks.

The whole thing, from the minute Gary handed her a plane ticket to Shanghai and pushed her into a taxi in Berlin to meeting Tony in the hotel lobby, has been a complete mystery, yet again. If there's anything Pearl has learned, it's that working with Tony Stark means one has to know how to go with the flow, and that's what she's been trying to do, but the fact that Gary isn't even there and Tony telling her to put on a nice dress before leading her up to the roof is just too much flow for her to handle. She needs answers. Something.

Tony furrows his brow. "What we're doing here? We're here for Chinese New Year."

He says it completely casually, as if they do this kind of thing everyday, and while he actually might, she certainly doesn't.

"This isn't a business trip?" she asks, thrown off by his answer and studies his face to see if he might be joking.

"Of course not. I wouldn't make you work on your birthday." He seems completely serious as he looks into her eyes and smiles, kind of.

Pearl sips on her drink and just stares at him, completely dumbfounded by him knowing this piece of information she's pretty sure she's never told him. "You know it's my birthday?"

"FRIDAY reminded me," he says. "You look absolutely stellar, by the way."

"Right." Pearl can't stop staring. FRIDAY might be an artificial intelligence, but Pearl is pretty sure the machine doesn't remind Tony of every single birthday by every single Stark Industries employee. She smiles, because the fact that he clearly thought her birthday was worth remembering makes her super happy even if he did go completely overboard with everything, and finishes her drink. "Still, it's very nice of you to do this."

Overboard or not, this is definitely a unique way to celebrate her twenty-eight birthday, so Pearl shifts her focus back to the streets, where the humongous parade is about to start. With a drink in one hand and her phone in the other, she watches in awe of the huge, dragon shaped parade floats, hundreds of dancers moving in perfect sync and thousands of people gathered in the streets to celebrate. She takes blurry pictures and sends them to Sam, who sends back equally blurry pictures of his meatball sub and the deli near the Avengers compound. He also sends a picture of a puddle to show her what she's missing out on.

As Pearl takes her eye off of the parade for just a second to grab a delicious looking fried thing off the plate in front of them, she notices Tony isn't looking at the sea of red and gold below. He isn't looking at his phone. He's looking at her. Casually, he shifts his gaze to the food and grabs something from the plate before focusing on the streets. Pearl decides to ignore the weird moment and eats the fried thing. It tastes as delicious as it looked, though she still has no idea what it is, but it's definitely a vegetable of some sort. She washes it down with the remaining drops of the minty cocktail in her hand before getting up and moving across the table to sit next to him.

"This is such a wonderful birthday, Tony. Thank you so much," Pearl says. Tony offers his hand and she takes it, but as she bends her knees to sit, her heel slips a little, making her lose her balance. Tony tightens his grip and kind of yanks her towards the couch, so she doesn't fall in the wrong direction and instead ends up right next to him.

"You alright?" he asks as she can't stop laughing.

"Yeah," she says with a big smile. She tilts her head to the right and finds herself staring at his face. "You know, you're actually a really great guy."

"Thanks, kid," he says dryly.

Pearl's sudden need to express her never ending gratitude may be brought on by the drinks, but that doesn't make it any less true. Tony is great. The past nine months haven't been easy, but thanks to him, they've been a little less horrible.

"No, I mean it. You don't get enough credit, but you're so nice and caring and helpful and..." Pearl trails off, trying to find that one word that describes Tony perfectly, that one word with all the vowels, but she can't find it.

"Devilishly handsome?" Tony suggests.

Pearl laughs, making him laugh, too.

"Yes, absolutely. You're devilishly handsome," she says with a mischievous smile and taps her finger on his nose.

As fireworks begin shooting up into the sky, Pearl gets up, this time without stumbling, and leans against the railing that surrounds the whole roof. She looks down at the city, now lit up with a different color every two seconds. It's so colorful and lively, that someone could write beautiful poetry about it.

"I can see everything from up here. I wonder why nobody else thought of this," she says.

"I reserved this whole roof for us." Again, he says it like it's the most normal thing.

Pearl looks over her shoulder. "What? Why?"

"Because I can," Tony says with a simple shrug. He signals something towards one of the waiters.

It does sound like something he would do just for the hell of it, but it's still odd, since the rooftop seems to be quite an exclusive place to begin with. As Pearl is about to press him for more information on why he would reserve the whole roof when there are only six tables and a velvet rope by the entrance, the waiter he signaled comes up to them and hands Tony a small box. It's dark red and rectangular.

"What is that?" Pearl asks.

He gets up to join her and hands over the box. "A gift."

Pearl takes it and holds it in her hands, tracing her finger across the leathery exterior. A gift? The trip to Shanghai isn't enough of a gift? Pearl playfully nudges his shoulder. "You shouldn't have."

"Open it."

She finally looks down at the box, only to have it make her slightly nervous. In gold, the word Cartier is embossed on the box. For her last birthday, her co-workers chipped in and got her a Starbucks gift card and Natasha usually just buys her a drink or two, so a Cartier box is definitely a new experience as far as gifts go. Taking a deep breath, Pearl slowly lifts up the lid to reveal a stunning necklace: a simple white gold chain with a circular pendant completely encrusted with diamonds. A barely audible gasp leaves her lips, and for the first time in probably ever, Pearl has no words.

"Happy birthday," Tony says. Pearl looks up to see him studying her face intently. "You like it?"

Of course she likes it, who wouldn't? It's a freaking diamond necklace. Pearl feels her heart racing, but the rest of her is frozen in one spot. She stares at Tony with her mouth slightly open, unsure of how to respond. A part of her wants to ask him if he's gone insane and another part just wants to start crying, but that's probably just the mixture of the booze and her overly active hormones talking.

She looks down at the necklace again, hoping it might have been a Target gift card or a bottle of cheap liquor or a Snuggie all along and her mind was just playing tricks on her, but no, it's still a gorgeous piece of jewelry. A gorgeous piece of jewelry she _can't_ possibly accept, because it's way too much, especially after everything he's already done for her. After all that, she should probably be buying him gifts. She makes a mental note to purchase a thank you gift for Tony, even if that opens up the whole question of what to buy for someone who has everything, and googling help for that question has proved to be useless every time she's tried it, and the people she was shopping for those times didn't __literally__ have everything, so she's basically screwed.

Pearl sees him still waiting for an answer and wonders which drink it was, that made her even more unable to focus on one thought than usual. Maybe it was the pink one with the sprinkles or the black one that was on fire. He's still waiting.

"It's really expensive," she finally manages to say. She finds herself clutching onto the box like her life depends on it, because dropping it is not an option. She slowly inches herself a little further from the edge of the roof, also know as 'the worst possible place to stand while holding diamonds.'

He chuckles. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It's beautiful," Pearl says.

"I saw it and thought of you."

Considering all the weird stuff that's been happening tonight, his statement fits right in, but it still catches Pearl off guard, because it kind of sounds like he's calling her beautiful, and he's done that before, but under completely different circumstances. Again, she doesn't know how to respond. The gift is too much, that's obvious, but their definition of 'too much' is probably quite different. Maybe he buys fancy gifts for everyone or maybe he just doesn't think about it like that. Maybe he just sees things and buys them without even asking the price, because he doesn't have to. Or maybe his personal shopper picked it out and he's just a really good liar, because he does sound totally sincere.

"Here," he says, reaching for the necklace. "Let me put it on."

Tony moves closer to her, and out of instinct Pearl turns her back on him, lifting up her hair. She knows she shouldn't accept the gift, but she's not really in the mindset of having a coherent argument about it, and even if she did, he wouldn't listen. As he places the chain around her neck, his hand softly grazes her collarbone. The metal feels cold against her skin. He hooks the clasp, and to her surprise, his fingers linger on the nape of her neck, gently caressing it. The feeling of his touch sends a little shiver down Pearl's spine and she finds herself having to catch her breath. Gently, he wraps his hand around her arm and his beard scratches her soft skin as his lips find their way onto her shoulder, right next to the strap of her dress.

As Tony places gentle kisses along her shoulder and up the side of her neck, Pearl looks up at the fireworks and wonders which drink made her unable to see all of this coming. It feels good, like really good in a way that sends trembles all over her body, and it's been a long time since she's felt anything like this, so she doesn't tell him to stop. Instead, she lets out a small moan and closes her eyes. The sound of the fireworks seems to fade away as Tony kisses his way up to her ear, making her arch her back so the strap of her dress falls off her shoulder and the jewelry box falls out of her hand, landing on the expensive velvet rug with a soft thud. She turns her head and their lips meet. He tastes like expensive whiskey and trouble.

With her heart pumping faster and faster, Pearl tries to think straight for a second and pulls back from the kiss, turning to face Tony. He sees the bewildered, yet flushed expression on her face and appears to realize what just happened and how it maybe shouldn't have. The slight shock quickly wears off as he clears his throat, looks down at the necklace and flashes that winning playboy smile of his, the remnants of her red lipstick smudged all over it.

"It looks great," he says, taking a step backwards.

"What just happened?" Pearl asks, trying to steady her breathing.

It's funny how after a nine-month long dry spell, a few well placed kisses can get her just about ready to explode. In her quest to move on and let go, she'd almost forgotten how it feels to be touched by a man. How _good_ it feels.

Tony rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I think I've had a little too much to drink."

"Yeah, totally. Me too. It's fine," Pearl says and smiles. She steps forward and strokes his arm in a reassuring way, with the absolute intention of it being completely platonic, but it feels nice and firm, and she finds herself taking another step towards him and grabbing onto his other arm. She takes a deep breath, faintly sensing the rich and earthy, almost intoxicating scent of his cologne. As if she wasn't already drunk enough.

"You won't sue me for sexual harassment?" Tony asks, jokingly, as he observes her with caution.

Pearl shakes her head and looks up into his eyes, biting on her lip. She wonders if he can hear her heart beating, since it's pounding against her chest so hard it feels like it's about to bust out. She knows thinking straight has gone out the window at this point, and she doesn't even care. Whatever was happening before, she wants to start happening again.

"No," Pearl says, running her hand up his arm and down against his chest. "Of course not."

Tony looks surprised, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything before she closes the gap between them, leaning in for a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocates. He runs his hands down her back and onto her waist, pulling her tightly against his own body, and his lips find their way to her neck again. His breath leaves her skin quivering. Pearl unbuttons his shirt with shaky hands and runs them across his chest, grazing the scar where his arc reactor used to be, before reaching around and digging her nails into his back. He groans, his kisses becoming more forceful.

In the elevator, as they ride down to suite 2201, Tony lifts her up against the wall so hard it feels like the whole elevator shakes. The soothing elevator music gets drowned out by their heavy breathing and frantic kissing. As she wraps her legs around him, their eyes meet, his intense and wanting stare matching hers. When he reaches under her dress, hiking up the hem and runs his fingers around the lacy edge of her bra, it feels like the longest elevator ride in the world.

There are no more words exchanged, no hesitation or doubt. They sink into a sea of silky red sheets and golden bedposts, drowning into the moment, not even coming up for air. Skin on skin, scar to scar. Deliriously drunk with no concept of time, space or anything beyond this two person paradise, Pearl feels every touch, every kiss, every moan, shiver and quiver, as if suddenly sobered.

She could get used to birthdays like this.


	27. Hot Off The Press

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN  
** ** **HOT OFF THE PRESS****

* * *

Pearl doesn't know if she'll ever get used to it; the experience of waking up in a new hotel for the first time. The hotels are vastly different, but the routine remains the same. Just as she feels as though she's settled in somewhere, she has to start all over again. Waking up in white silk sheets in a blue toned room in Berlin feels disorienting, when she's spent a month waking up in white cotton sheets in a highly modern black and white room in Amsterdam. Before her brain manages to process the information there's always that split second or two, where Pearl wonders how exactly she ended up there. It's kind of like college, except with hotel rooms instead of dorms and instead of the walk of shame, there's just a whole lot of excitement over her fabulous job, even if said job means she never feels at home anywhere.

Waking up in her room in Shanghai is no different. If anything, it's even more disorienting because of the pounding in her head and the dryness in her throat—both usually signs of a fun night. Pearl opens her eyes only to immediately close them again, the bright light of day invading her retinas at full force. She pulls the covers over her face before opening her eyes again, trying to ease her way into it. The sheets are soft, red silk and a sure sign that she's not in Berlin anymore. With just one eye open, she peeks out from under the covers and sits up on the bed. The Shanghai skyline is visible from the window, and as she gulps down the glass of water off the bedside table, she looks around the lavishly decorated room. Her strappy sequin dress is crumpled up on the dresser and her panties are nowhere to be seen.

She's never been the type to black out and forget everything after a few too many drinks, but it can sometimes take a little while for her brain to replay the events of last night. The scattered clothes and the fact that she's naked provide excellent clues, but the final realization comes, as Pearl reaches over to set the glass back down and notices the diamond necklace neatly positioned on the night stand.

The imagery of last night now flooding into her head, Pearl gets up and grabs the necklace from the table, reaching around her neck to clasp it on. She finds a silk robe in the closet and wraps it around herself before heading into the other room of the suite, almost certain of what she'll find in there.

Tony, sitting at the little round table with a mountain of breakfast foods in front of him, looks up from the newspaper he's reading. He smiles. "Good morning."

The fact that he's fully dressed, in a suit, for breakfast is kind of weird. Not because it's weird for him to wear a suit, but because it makes Pearl realize she's never actually seen him in any other clothes. He's either been naked or wearing a suit. There's been no in-between.

"How are you feeling, kid?" he asks, folding up the newspaper and setting it down as Pearl drags herself over and sits down.

"I have a headache," she says and grabs a glass of orange juice to gulp down. He looks amused, but also as though he's expecting more of an answer. It takes Pearl a second to catch on. "But that's not what you're asking."

"We can just forget this ever happened, if you want," he says.

His suggestion leaves Pearl taken aback.

"Do you want to?" she asks, not knowing how to react if he says yes.

Pearl doesn't want to forget it. It might have been a drunken one night stand and it definitely wasn't planned— it wasn't like some big thing where he bought her diamonds and flew her out to Shanghai to confess his undying love for her—but Pearl doesn't want it to be a mistake. It was just two beautiful people, caught up in the heat of the moment, enjoying one another and having sex because they like sex. Just two friends helping each other out.

Tony shakes his head lightly and meets her eyes. "Of course not."

"Well, good, because I don't like to be forgotten," Pearl says and quickly realizes she wasn't prepared for him saying no, either. "But that was just sex, right? I mean, you're not..."

She trails off, looking to find an answer in his eyes. His brow furrows. "What, in love?"

Pearl shrugs.

"I don't think I'll do that again," he says.

Pearl breathes a silent sigh of relief. "Yeah, me neither."

"Keep it casual?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Totally."

His lips curve into a smile and his eyes narrow in on Pearl's. There's something so mischievous and sexual in his gaze, that it makes her bite on her lower lip and try to match the intensity.

Tony clears his throat, breaking up the moment. He gestures towards the full buffet of food. "I ordered breakfast for you. I don't know what you like, so I just got everything."

As Pearl nods and surveys the food in front of her, he gets up from his chair.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"Back to New York."

Right around that moment, Pearl notices his luggage set by the door with his coat hung over the handle, all ready to go. "You're leaving me here?"

"I wish I could stay, but the room is all paid for. You can have a little vacation," he says.

Pearl is about to cry out in protest, because flying her out to Shanghai and then just leaving her there seems kind of rude even if it has been a long time since her last vacation, but she doesn't get the chance.

"You're coming to New York for Valentine's Day right?" Tony asks.

"Me and Gary are coming to New York for the shareholders meeting," Pearl says.

Tony smirks. "Which just happens to be right before Valentine's Day."

"What's your point?" Pearl asks, wondering where he's going with his, when literally two minutes ago they agreed to keep it casual.

"We could do Valentine's Day."

Pearl studies his expression for a second to see if he might be joking, but it doesn't falter. "We're not going to __do__ Valentine's Day."

"You're right, let me rephrase that. We could do each other on Valentine's day."

Pearl can feel her cheeks burning ever so slightly and she finds herself almost biting on her lip again. As he leans down to kiss her cheek and says goodbye, Pearl wonders if this casual thing could actually work. He might be her boss, but at least he's not secretly married or anything. So far, it seems uncomplicated. Simple.

That night, Steve sends her another update about Bucky, except it's less like an update and more like a rehash of the same thing he's been sending for the past nine months; Bucky's still missing. Pearl feels a tinge of guilt as she reads his text.

For a moment—just a quick, sparkling and intoxicating moment laced with diamonds, soft lips and rough hands—Pearl forgot about Bucky. For a moment, she was almost happy.

On Saturday morning, the day after the highly successful shareholders meeting (that basically guaranteed a raise for Gary, which made him really happy, which in turn made Pearl really happy) and the day before Valentine's day, Tony leaves Pearl to sleep in his bedroom at Stark Tower while he goes and deals with something somewhere, possibly with someone. The details of whatever he's doing get lost due to Pearl being half-asleep as he explains it. An eight hour long meeting with the shareholders followed by dinner at Tony's favorite shawarma place and topped with major jet lag is kind of a tiring combination, apparently.

So, she falls back asleep right after he leaves, this time with her panties firmly on, but not long after she wakes up to sounds coming from the other room. She grabs the nearest clothing item, one of Tony's dress shirts, and puts it on before venturing out into the hall.

Buttoning up the shirt, she rounds the corner to the living room. "Tony? Did you forget something?"

But it's not Tony, it's Natasha, who turns around at the sound of Pearl's voice. Pearl freezes on the spot, hoping she would've put on more clothes and wondering if it's too late to button up the rest of the shirt. Natasha looks her up and down. She's not easily surprised, but the sight of Pearl seems to render her momentarily speechless.

As the elevator dings, both women turn to look. Happy comes out.

"Miss Romanoff, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he says, sternly, holding his hands behind his back. He turns to Pearl with an apologetic look. "So sorry about this, Miss Palmer. These new security guys just let her in and they're supposed to check with-"

Pearl cuts him off. "It's okay, Happy. You can go. We'll be fine."

He leaves after she gives him a reassuring nod. A part of her wishes he would've just dragged Natasha out of there, but that probably would've been worse than whatever is about to happen.

"I didn't know you were in New York," Natasha says, crossing her arms. Her voice is tight and her eyes extremely focused on Pearl's.

Pearl rubs the back of her neck and darts her eyes across the room. "Yeah, you know, I would've called, but I'm not staying very long. You know how it is."

Pearl flashes a smile and wonders if there's any chance Natasha thinks she's just there for an innocent sleepover and trying to save money on hotel bills.

"Right," Natasha says. "So, when I called you before New Years and you said you were in Berlin with Tony, you meant you were in Berlin __with__ Tony?"

Okay, apparently not.

"No. We were just working," Pearl says, truthfully, but Natasha doesn't seem to buy it.

"Right." She nods along. "So, what is this?"

"What?"

"Why are you doing _this_?" Natasha asks. "What about Bucky?"

The question catches Pearl off guard. She wasn't expecting Bucky to get dragged into this, whatever this is.

"It's been nine months, Natasha," she says calmly. "What do you want me to do, sit around and wait for him? 'Cause I've been doing that and it's not fun."

"And you just had to pick Tony Stark as your rebound guy?" Natasha asks.

Pearl can't quite figure out what Natasha is more mad about; jumping into bed with Tony or not waiting for Bucky. She shakes her head. "He's not a rebound guy. We're just having casual sex."

"He's your boss, Pearl. There's nothing casual about that," Natasha says. "And you know that. You know that first hand. That's why you didn't tell me."

Alright, so definitely more mad about the Tony thing, it seems.

Pearl sighs. "I didn't tell you, because I knew you'd make a big deal out of it and I don't need that right now."

"It is a big deal. How long has this been going on?"

"A week."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "And you're sleeping here? That's not casual, Pearl. You don't spend the night if it's casual."

"Is there a rulebook I should be following? He's not just some random dude; he's my friend."

"And your boss. And these two things make him _the worst_ person to get involved with right now." The stern look on Nat's face gives way to a kinder one. "Honest to God, I'm just trying to help."

"There's no need to for you to worry. We're both on the same page here, and I'm fine."

She really means it. She is fine. Not like 'completely over Bucky and happy to be moving on' kind of fine, but definitely getting there.

Natasha takes a moment before speaking again, looking Pearl in the eyes like she's trying to figure out if her friend really is fine or if this will all blow up horribly and two weeks later, they'll be back at the bar and she'll have to, once again, find a new job for Pearl.

The corner of Natasha's mouth curves up into something resembling a smirk. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised. You're kind of exactly like him."

"I feel like that's not a compliment," Pearl says.

"Let's just say it's a neutral statement."

In March, Gary interviews people in the Stark Industries offices in Los Angeles with the hopes of finding someone to join their little traveling team. Pearl helps him, happily, because hiring another person would mean there would be someone below her on the totem pole and because Gary's recent raise came with a whole bunch of new responsibilities, meaning the work is just piling up and they need help, desperately.

On St Patrick's Day Pearl spends her evening reading through recommendation letters in her hotel room to see if anything remarkable jumps out, when her phone rings. Tony's name and picture pop up on the screen.

"What's up, kid?" he says as she picks up.

"Oh, not much. I'm swamped with work, but that's nothing new." Pearl grabs another letter from the pile, skimming over it while listening to Tony.

"It's St Patrick's Day. I can't have you working on St Patrick's Day. That's like working on Christmas."

Pearl rolls her eyes at him out of habit, even though he can't see it. "It really isn't, and we worked through Christmas, remember?"

"Just put on something green and come celebrate."

"What?"

There's a quick knock at the door. Pearl opens it, wearing her fancy hotel robe, and after knowing him for some time now, isn't even surprised to find Tony leaning up against the door frame.

"This is a long way to go for a booty call," she says, tilting her head.

"Booty call? No, no. This is just me effortlessly combining business and pleasure." He grins, taking a step closer and wrapping his arm around her waist. He plants a kiss on her cheek. "Come on, I know a great Irish pub."

Pearl eyes the man suddenly so close to her, feeling his side pressed up against hers, and weighs her options. Staying in and working all night, like she's been doing for the past month really pales in comparison to spending a guaranteed fun night out with Tony. She smiles. "I don't know if I own anything green."

Pearl has learned that living out of suitcase means she doesn't always have an outfit for every situation and this is one of them. As she tries to mentally go through the contents of said suitcase, pretty sure the only green thing in there is her toothbrush, Tony holds up a black shopping bag. Barney's.

"Got you covered," he says.

"You have to stop buying me things," Pearl says, trying not to smile even wider.

"Why would I do that?" he asks, already shuffling her towards the bathroom to change.

"Because I'm beginning to feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman," she says jokingly.

They go to a pub downtown. It's full of people, as is to be expected, and they're all wearing varied shades of green. The blaring speakers seem to be playing a weird concoction of Irish folk songs mixed with electronic dance music. After a few green drinks, it starts sounding better and better. Tony guides her to an open booth and they sit down. She doesn't even need to ask to know he'd reserved it ahead of time. The line outside the pub went around the building, but they just strolled right in, and with people packed from wall to wall, an open booth is just too much of a coincidence.

"This is becoming a bit of a habit; I mean, spending the holidays together," Pearl says. "Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day…"

"Don't forget Chinese New Year."

She smiles. "How could I?"

"Among all your birthdays, where would you rank that one? Top five?" Tony asks. "I'm very competitive."

"Oh, top five, definitely. And it was the closest thing I've ever had to a surprise party."

"That alone probably bumps it up to the top three."

"Absolutely," Pearl says, the grin on her face matching his. Noting that his glass is empty, she asks, "You want another drink?"

Just as she's about to get up, he grabs her hand and pulls her back. "Your money's no good here."

"You bought me this dress; let me buy you one drink."

Reluctantly he agrees, and she heads over to the bar. As the bartender whips up their next round, Pearl looks around at the crowd to see a sea of green, drunk people. She leaves a hefty tip in the tip jar, knowing exactly how horrible these holidays can be when you're the one stuck behind the bar. With the drinks in hand, she heads back towards the booth, only to see Tony's not alone.

She stops to observe the situation, or rather the five young women gathered around him, and watches as he moves their hands away when they try and touch him. He shakes his head, and they leave, looking severely disappointed.

"What was that?" Pearl asks, and when he looks up with confusion, nods towards the girls.

"They asked me to join their booth," he says.

"And you said no? To five girls?" Pearl asks, sitting down beside him. She offers him his drink. "That's ten boobs, Tony."

"Now you're a math wiz?"

"I'm a woman of many talents."

"I'm sure." He puts his drink down on the table.

"So, what gives?" she asks, gesturing to the girls again.

He looks straight into her eyes, confused, but his voice is confident and strong. "I already know who I'm going home with."

She hopes the dim lighting helps cover the sudden flush on her cheeks. Running his hand across her thigh and up to her waist, he pulls her in closer before leaning in for a kiss. A kiss, that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. A kiss, that leaves her lips looking for his when he pulls away.

"You think you're so smooth, don't you?" she asks.

He grins and takes her hand, pulling her up from her seat. "Come on, you can show me if one your many talents is dancing."

She glances at her watch and nearly lets out a wail of despair. "I have to be at work in six hours."

"Then we better make them count."

The next morning, after about three hours of sleep, Pearl meets Gary over breakfast at a cafe downtown. They compare notes on their prospective new co-workers, tossing a bunch of resumes and applications into the 'absolutely not' pile, some into the 'will interview if we can fit them in' pile and a select few into the 'call immediately' pile. Pearl looks at the ever growing stack of rejected applicants and the fact, that she'd be in that pile if it wasn't for Tony, really sinks in.

After reading the same sentence three times without it making any sense, Pearl signals the waitress for a refill on her coffee.

"You look tired," Gary remarks, looking up from his laptop.

Pearl tries to keep her eyes open, but they droop anyway, fooling nobody. "Oh, yeah. I was up really late with these letters."

The waitress comes over with the coffee. It tastes horrible, but Pearl probably wouldn't have survived last year without it. Gary cocks an eyebrow before turning his laptop towards her.

Pearl, expecting the screen to show another job application or other work related thing, nearly chokes on her coffee when she glances up and sees her own face plastered all over one of those gossip websites.

 ** _ **Tony Stark's WILD night out with mystery blonde—EXCLUSIVE pictures inside!**_**

Pearl clicks through a few of the pictures to see that they're mostly grainy cellphone shots from inside the bar with a few better quality ones taken right outside. There's Tony in his snazzy green vest getting drinks, Pearl dancing in her lovely emerald Balmain dress, Tony and Pearl kissing, Tony and Pearl getting into a car...

 _ _Legendary playboy Tony Stark was spotted by our readers at West Hollywood hot spot Rock & Reilly's, getting cozy with an unidentified young woman. Our sources tell us the Iron Man has called it splits with longtime girlfriend Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, but no official statement has been released from either side. They may stay silent, but a picture is worth a thousand words!__

"Damn it," Pearl mutters and keeps scrolling, though she's not sure she should. The comments underneath the article seem pretty unanimous, because they all think she's pretty, but probably just another bimbo. Pearl hopes Penelope, the biggest lover of trashy gossip, doesn't see this.

"Okay, so I lied. I'm sorry. I'm a horrible employee," Pearl says as she finishes reading the article.

Gary looks at her with his very best serious face. "To be honest, I wasn't expecting much when Mister Stark stuck me with you. You looked like a mess. You had no real experience. You were unprepared."

Pearl frowns. "I'm hoping there's a 'but' in there somewhere."

" _But_ you've proven me wrong a thousand times over, so maybe we'll just let this slide." Gary smiles. "Besides, I went out last night, too."

"What?" Pearl shrieks. "You went out? You?"

Gary nods, swinging his laptop back around and returning to work. Pearl stares at him in awe. For most people, this conversation wouldn't even count as one, but for Pearl and Gary, it's a huge step forward. It's like a tiny glimpse into Gary's life. A life Pearl knows next to nothing about and, up until now, assumed consisted of nothing but work, coffee and sleep.

Halfway through April, Pearl finds herself back at Stark Tower. The elevator doors slide open and Pearl steps inside with her suitcase in tow, her high heels clicking against the floor.

Tony peeks his head out from one of the rooms and immediately smiles as he sees her. "Well this is a nice surprise."

"Gary sent me to deal with some stuff here," Pearl says.

"If I'd known you were coming, I would've sent a car." Tony comes out, wearing an old band t-shirt and jeans and looking like he's just a normal guy. It's strange. He gives her a gentle peck on the cheek, grazing her back with his hand.

"It's fine. Natasha picked me up," she says.

Natasha, possibly trying to make amends after the whole Tony thing, not only offered Pearl a ride, but also took her to brunch. Over croissants and bagels and perfectly sliced oranges, Natasha tried her very best to be on board and asked questions like how, when, what, who, where, but her doubts about the casual arrangement still came through.

Tony walks over to the bar and sets out two glasses before reaching for the whiskey. "How long are you staying?"

"A week, maybe two." Pearl sits down onto the couch and accepts the drink. It may be a little past noon in New York and morning in LA, but it's five o'clock somewhere and after a bumpy plane ride and Natasha's third degree, she's earned it.

"Natasha told me about the Sokovia Accords," she says.

Tony leans against the bar. "Did she tell you Rogers is refusing to sign? That man has got some serious authority issues."

"After everything, can you blame him?" Pearl asks. She remembers the aftermath of SHIELD's collapse very well, because it caused a full internal investigation at every department of the CIA. It took months to get everyone cleared again. She takes a sip of her drink and shrugs. "Steve's just standing up for what he believes in."

"Are you on his side?" Tony asks sharply, his eyes narrow.

Caught off guard by his reaction, Pearl shakes her head. She speaks calmly. "I'm not on anybody's side. This doesn't concern me."

"But if you had to pick a side, you would pick Steve."

"Not necessarily. I don't know what's right or wrong."

Pearl studies the intensity on his face and begins to regret bringing up the subject at all. As someone, who previously worked under the government, she can understand Steve's hesitation, but according to Natasha, if they don't sign, there will be no more Avengers. It's a scary thought.

"As long as you pay my salary, I can't exactly be objective," Pearl says jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Tony's grip around the glass seems to tighten. He raises an eyebrow. "That's the only reason?"

Pearl is stunned. "You know it's not. I just-"

"You'll choose him. You're always going to choose him," he says. "Steve comes with Bucky and I don't."

"Bucky?" Pearl asks. What does he have to do with anything? "Nobody's seen Bucky in a year. For all I know, he's dead."

Tony scoffs.

"Where is this coming from?" Pearl asks, legitimately confused by his behavior right now. She sets down her drink. "How am I your enemy right now?"

Tony doesn't answer and instead slowly pours himself a refill. His whole body seems tense. Pearl gets up and cautiously walks over. She places a hand on his arm.

"Whatever happens, I'm here for you, but please don't ask me to pick your side," she says, looking up at him.

"Why not?"

Pearl takes a deep breath. "Because I actually might, and I can't do that to Steve."

A few days pass and Pearl wakes up, alone, in Tony's bedroom to the sound of a text message.

 _ _(06:12am) turn on the news__

Remembering the last time Natasha sent a message like this, Pearl is hesitant to turn on the television. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, especially in the case of giant space worms. She drags herself over to the living room anyway. The first channel that pops up is blasting a breaking news report. A big headline flashes across the screen.

 ** _ **BOMBING AT THE UNITED NATIONS VIENNA SUMMIT**_**

The report shows footage of the building, partially destroyed with smoke still rising, being extinguished by firemen. Pearl sits down. This is not good. This is about the Accords.

 _"...terrible tragedy at the UN summit in Vienna today left at least seventy people injured and twelve deceased, including King T'Chaka of Wakanda_ _ _...__ _"_

Really not good.

 _"...the bomb was placed in a news van, and a video of the suspect has been released. He has been identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier…"_

As his face appears on the screen, Pearl's whole body goes completely numb. After almost a year, there he is. Wanted for a terrorist attack.

This is really, __really__ not good.


	28. A Long Story And Something About A VW

****CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT  
**** ** **A LONG STORY AND SOMETHING ABOUT A VOLKSWAGEN****

* * *

Pearl stares at the television.

She stares at it like the emergency news broadcast will suddenly disappear and make way for one of those obnoxious morning shows with perky hosts, who discuss burning topics like smoothies and yoga.

It doesn't. It's not a hallucination or a dream. It's real.

It's supposed to be _g_ _ _ood__ news. Bucky is alive. She's supposed to be happy. He's not dead in a ditch somewhere. He's no longer completely missing. Sure, he just bombed a UN building and killed a bunch of people, but he's alive. It __is__ good news, but it's also like a cruel cosmic joke or some form of karmic retribution. Bucky turned out to be alive while Pearl slept calmly in another man's bed.

Before Pearl has even fully processed the information, let alone figured out how to proceed and who to call, her phone rings. It's Natasha.

"Can you call Steve?" she asks.

"Uh, sure. Why?"

Natasha explains the situation and what she wants Pearl to do. The objective seems simple enough: tell Steve to back off and let the government handle the Bucky situation according to protocol. Tell him to keep himself out of trouble, do the right thing and not act against the Accords. Let them capture Bucky.

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" Pearl asks.

"He probably won't."

It's not a very solid plan, but at least it's something. It's the __right__ thing. Pearl doesn't want Steve to land himself in jail just because he's not thinking clearly. As soon as Natasha says a quick goodbye, Pearl calls Steve, number three on her speed dial.

As the line beeps and beeps, Pearl's attention is drawn back to the news on the television. Heavily armed soldiers rush to the scene in Vienna, dressed in full riot gear. A mass of faceless and nameless CIA pawns, given the objective to capture the Winter Soldier by an agency that couldn't care less if he happens to die in the process. Dead or alive, thrown in a grave or thrown into prison. Either way, the most notorious assassin of the last seven decades would be eliminated and they would come out looking like heroes. Natasha said they'd get him alive, and maybe they would, but she didn't say anything about what might happen after.

It's the after that really scares Pearl.

The beeping stops and Steve's voice comes through loud and clear. "Hello?"

"Keep him safe, Steve. Please."

As soon as the words leave her lips, Pearl is no longer Switzerland in this situation. She's no longer the girl, who told Tony she wouldn't pick a side. Told him she might pick __his__ side.

She's the girl, who encouraged Steve Rogers to actively go against the Sokovia Accords. He would've done it anyway, because he's Steve, but she just had to say it. It is just a small, almost trivial thing, just a few words she said at an impulse, but it still makes her feel like she's broken a promise.

 _ _"You'll choose him. You're always going to choose him. Steve comes with Bucky and I don't."__

Maybe Tony was right.

Pearl spends the next twenty-something hours almost glued to the TV screen, trying to piece together the events and figure out what the hell is happening. It's like being in high school and knowing everybody else is at your ex-boyfriend's party and you're not invited, except it's not a party, it's the aftermath of her ex-boyfriend's latest act of terrorism. And instead of hearing about it on Monday during first period, she gets to watch it unfold in front of her on live television.

 _ _"...the dangerous fugitive James Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier has escaped CIA custody…"__

No matter how many times Pearl tries to call, Natasha doesn't answer her phone. Tony's goes straight to voice mail. Steve's says it's unable to connect and Sam's doesn't even make a sound.

They've got better things to do than call her or answer her texts. Pearl knows this. It doesn't make it any less irritating.

 _ _"...two more arrest warrants have been issued for aiding and abetting in the escape. Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, believed to be traveling with Barnes…"__

None of it makes any sense. Pearl understands why Bucky would escape, since the bombing proves he's probably not himself, but Steve's not stupid enough to do something like this. He may be loyal to a fault, but he must have a reason beyond Bucky. There must be more to the story.

The TV news reporter blabs on about how Captain America used to be a symbol of the whole nation. A poster child for morality. A legendary war hero idolized by all. How he used to be a true believer in God and country, and how the country believed in him—until now. Steve and Bucky's escape from the CIA has apparently made Steve into public enemy number one.

Somewhere between the glory days of Captain America and a detailed account of people suspected to be assassinated by the Winter Soldier, Pearl nods off for fifteen minutes. An hour, maybe. Three at the most.

The sound of the elevator wakes her up.

It's the funniest thing. She lived in New York for nearly a decade and could sleep through sirens and gunfire, but the sound of Tony's elevator wakes her up without fail.

Just as Pearl drags herself up from the couch, Tony walks in with a teenage boy in tow; he's got brown hair and a sort of wide-eyed innocence as he looks around the apartment.

"Hey, kid. I might have to cancel our dinner plans," Tony says, swooping past Pearl, only stopping briefly to kiss her cheek. It happens so fast she can't even form a thought, let alone a full sentence.

He quickly disappears into the hall leading to the bedrooms, making Pearl wonder if she's somehow still asleep. The boy stands by the elevator with his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his feet. The whole situation seems surreal. Tony is supposed to be in Berlin, but suddenly he isn't. Stark Tower is supposed to be a child-free zone, but suddenly there is an awkward looking teenager, whose averting eyes make Pearl really reconsider her decision not to get dressed earlier. Standing there dressed in an old NYU shirt that barely covers her ass, Pearl has a million questions in her head and a million more popping up every second.

"What's happening? Why are you back? Is it over?" she yells after Tony.

"Not so much. Rogers has gone rogue. I have to go stop him," he responds, barely audible through the walls.

She waits a few seconds for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "What? What does that mean? Stop him how?" She looks over to the boy standing in the corner. "And who the hell is this?"

There's no response, and just as Pearl is about to storm right after Tony and give him a piece of her mind about how he can't just swoop in and disappear without an explanation while something major is going on, the boy takes a few steps forward, extending out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Peter. Peter Parker. Or Spider-Man, if you'd prefer."

He smiles from ear to ear. He's a goofy looking kid, probably around sixteen, and Pearl shakes his hand, still confused by the situation. It takes her a second to realize why the term Spider-Man actually rings a bell and then it clicks. He's that kid from those videos Tony has shown her. But why is he there?

"Pearl. Palmer. No alias."

"I don't usually go around telling people about my secret identity," Peter says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Because it's a secret?" Pearl asks, trying keep a straight face.

"Yeah." He nods and smiles. "But Mister Stark said I could trust you." He pauses. "And I left my costume in the car."

Pearl is still wondering why he's there, but it seems rude to ask, so she simply nods along. There's something incredibly endearing about him.

"Are you Mister Stark's girlfriend?" Peter asks.

"I'm his-"

"She's my lawyer."

Pearl can almost hear the smirk in Tony's voice and as she turns to see him standing in the doorway, he simply winks. Before he has a chance to disappear again, she walks over to him while tugging at the hem of her shirt so it doesn't rise up.

"What the hell is going on, Tony?"

His gaze shifts from her eyes to just past them. "Lieutenant Ross is out for blood. I don't have much time."

"You had enough time to drop by, so you can take a minute to tell me what happened." She stares at him until he meets her eyes again. She's not letting him get away with vague answers.

"What happened is I had to pull a lot of strings and call in a lot of favors to make sure Barnes stayed out of prison, and all Steve had to do was sign his name on a piece of paper."

"I'm guessing he didn't?" she asks.

"He did not. Then his nut job friend escaped," he pauses, seeing Pearl raise an eyebrow, "I mean, his mentally unstable friend tried to kill us all and __then__ escaped."

"Why?"

Tony shrugs one shoulder. "I don't know. I'll make sure to ask him that the next time he holds a gun to my head."

"Damn it, Bucky," Pearl mumbles under her breath.

"I should go. I have to go back to Berlin and talk some sense into good old Cap before Ross sends out the special forces," he says, glancing at his watch.

Berlin? If Steve is still in Berlin, why did Tony fly back? Before she can even ask the question, the answer becomes obvious. There's something he isn't quite telling her and that something is red and gold, made of metal and currently stored downstairs.

"If you just wanted to talk to him, you wouldn't have needed to come here and get your suit," Pearl says before gesturing towards Peter. "Or that guy."

Tony looks over her shoulder to see Peter, who seems to be admiring the amazing view of the city with great interest.

"He's got great enthusiasm, don't you think?" he asks with a halfhearted smile.

Pearl takes a deep breath and wonders if she was better off not knowing anything after all.

"Hey," Tony says, lightly grabbing her chin and lifting it up. "Everything will be fine."

Pearl wants to believe him. She really does. But if Steve hasn't given in so far, she doubts weapons, armor and a teenage boy can make him do it. Whatever his reasons, Pearl can only hope they're worth all this. Tony kisses her forehead before breaking free from the moment.

As she looks into his deep brown, reassuring eyes, she knows she has to tell him about the phone call, even though it's possible he'd never find out. She could ask Steve to keep it a secret, and he'd never have to know. But he's standing there, preparing to fight his friend, completely oblivious to the fact that she went behind his back. That she was here, rooting for Steve to keep Bucky safe, while he was over there, making a deal that would've done just that.

Whatever happens next, he deserves to have all the information.

"I have to tell you something," she says, lowering her voice.

"Alright." He looks so calm and normal, like he's just expecting her to say she accidentally opened one of his super expensive wine bottles again.

She hesitates. "I called Steve."

He tenses up. "And?"

Pearl stares into Tony's eyes, suddenly very aware of her own heavy breathing and the sound of her heart beating in her chest. "And I asked him to keep Bucky safe."

"Why?" he asks.

Pearl studies his expression, unable to make sense of it. It's almost blank, emotionless. She expected more of a reaction. "I don't know. It just came out. I was afraid of what would happen to him. I thought maybe-"

He cuts her off. "You still love him."

She's taken aback. His expression remains unreadable. She shakes her head. "That's... This has nothing to do with that."

She wants to believe herself. If she did, he might, too. He doesn't.

"It has everything to do with that."

He knows her too well.

He glances over at Peter before narrowing in on her. The corner of his eye twitches. "You didn't want to side with me, because Steve's your friend, but the minute the Terminator comes back from the dead, you're suddenly Team Cap?"

"I'm not-" The words get lost on the way out, as if blocked by a giant lump in her throat.

"What does that make me?" Tony asks, his brow furrowed. He waves his hand dismissively. "Actually, you know what? Don't answer that."

He takes a step past her, but she grabs his arm to stop him.

"You're my boss. My friend. My lover. My _family_." Her voice trembles as her eyes meet his intense stare, and she holds onto his arm even tighter, but she doesn't break eye contact. "And I hope you'll understand, that I'm not against you. If I was, I'd try to stop you from leaving. I just…"

She can feel her eyes welling up, but swallows back the tears, closing her eyes for a second. She looks up at him, breathing slowly, and sees a much softer expression than moments before. It's gone in a flash.

"I have to believe Steve has a reason beyond being a stubborn idiot," she says with a shrug.

Tony looks down and shakes his head a little, pressing his lips tightly together. He avoids looking at her in the eyes and snaps his fingers, turning around to leave. "Come on, Spider-Boy. We've got work to do."

As the two of them stand side by side in the elevator, Tony focuses on his phone while Peter tries to appear as if he's not looking at Pearl and fails miserably. She gives him a genuine smile, amazed that someone could make her smile right now, but there's just something endearing about him ogling her legs with the complete lack of tact and discretion only a boy his age could have.

"Hey, Mister Stark, do you think I need a lawyer?" he asks just as the doors slide shut.

Two hours later, as Pearl checks into a hotel just off Fifth Avenue, her phone rings. The caller ID says it's an unknown, international number. She picks up.

"Pearl?"

The reception isn't that great, but she can make out a familiar voice. "Steve? What's going on?"

She mouths a quick apology to the receptionist, motioning to her phone and walks out onto the street, hoping the connection issue is on her end. It's not. She can make out something about a long story, Berlin and a Volkswagen, before Steve says, "Bucky's with me."

"Is he okay?" she asks.

There's a long silence from Steve's end of the phone call.

"Steve?" she asks, wondering whether he's being annoyingly mysterious or if the connection gave out.

"It's complicated."

"What the hell does that mean?" Pearl snaps. The last day and a half has been nothing but complicated.

"Physically he's fine." His words come through clearer than before. Pearl's not sure if it's because he found better reception or because she's listening so intently she's blocked out the static noise.

"But?"

It sounds like Steve takes a deep breath. "He doesn't remember."

"What? Anything?"

Another dramatic pause.

"When he woke up in Ohio, the last thing he remembered was dragging me out of the Potomac," Steve says.

"So, you're saying he doesn't remember me?" Her voice begins to shake at the last word. There's no response. "Steve?"

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying."


	29. On Paper, Everything's Different

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE  
ON PAPER, EVERYTHING'S DIFFERENT**

* * *

"Did you tell Stark where you were going?" Steve asks.

Pearl looks out of the window at miles and miles of trees stretching out before her. From what she's seen so far, Wakanda looks like a beautiful place. Under different circumstances, it might make a lovely holiday destination.

"He's not stupid, Steve. He knows I'm with you," she says and lets out a sigh. "He might never talk to me again."

"Why?"

"I said I'm not taking sides, yet here I am." She turns to Steve. "Why am I here, Steve?"

"For Bucky."

 _For Bucky_.

Pearl wants to ask how has doing things for Bucky worked out for Steve lately, but holds her tongue. They both know Bucky's her soft spot as much as he is Steve's.

"He doesn't know who I am. I could walk away and he would be none the wiser."

Pearl's tried to stay positive and remind herself that Bucky's amnesia, at the very least, means he didn't abandon her knowingly. So far, she still feels like someone keeps repeatedly chopping up her insides with a machete, but the positivity has helped her feel sympathy towards him. Like most things in Bucky's life, he didn't ask for this.

"He's going under cryostasis again," Steve says. "Until we can figure out how to remove his programming."

"That's good," Pearl says, nodding her head.

Steve places a hand on her shoulder. "You should go talk to him."

He gives her shoulder a squeeze before turning and walking away. She sighs, watching him walk away and passing the door Bucky is behind. He's right there, barely ten feet away from her. A year ago, she would've ran through that door the minute she arrived. Now she's not even sure she should go in.

After glancing at her phone to find no new messages or calls, Pearl runs her fingers through her hair and checks her scarlet lipstick in a compact. Even after a long flight it's still holding up, gorgeous and absolutely __almost__ worth the thirty dollars. She takes a deep breath, reminding herself she sure as hell did not fly all the way out here just to see Steve.

Looking through the little window on the door, the first thing she notices is Bucky's hobo haircut has made a less than wanted comeback. The second thing is the absence of the metal contraption that used to cause shivers down her spine. His arm.

She pushes the door open. He turns to look, but there's no happy reunion moment. No twinkle in his eyes upon recognition. No smile, nothing.

"What happened to your arm?" she asks, closing the door behind her.

He glances at his shoulder. "It was shot off."

She wonders if he lied about liking the haircut she once gave him or if the hobo hair is just how he stays incognito. He looks the same as the day they met, just a little more scuffed up and a little less morose.

"You're Pearl," Bucky says.

She nods. "I am."

"I'm supposed to know you."

Pearl shrugs. "You knew me. That doesn't mean you're supposed to know me now."

He stares straight at her as she adjusts her cardigan, wrapping it tighter around herself. She looks around the room, trying to find the right words to say, as if they'll just appear to her from the empty walls or instrument trays.

Pearl looks back at him to see he's still staring. He blinks. His eyes, the beautiful blue ones she used to look into and hope she'd never have to look away, continue to scan every inch of her face, as if he's hoping it'll spark something.

"You're so beautiful. I didn't do you justice," Bucky says.

"What?"

"I wrote about you," he says, "in my diary."

After the events at the Potomac, Bucky kept diaries, writing down events he could remember, trying to piece his life together. He kept writing even while living at the compound. As he explains it, Pearl wonders why he never told her, but that question is soon replaced by an even bigger one.

"Why didn't you come back?" she asks, her eyes narrowing in on his. "You knew we would help you."

He looks down, his forehead creasing as he talks. "I was going to come back eventually. In another year, maybe."

Pearl's heart skips a beat. The words seem to echo in her ear like a bad movie soundtrack, the kind that takes you out of the moment.

"What?"

He breathes out slowly, shutting his eyes for a second. His gaze trails across the floor as his hand grips onto the edge of the examination chair, his fingers wrapping around dark blue polyurethane. "I wanted to give you time to move on."

"Move on?" Pearl stares ahead in disbelief. "Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I didn't want to put you through this again. If I'd stayed away longer, then maybe-"

"Put me through what?" she asks, louder than she intends to.

Bucky finally looks up. "All of it." He shakes his head before looking straight into her eyes. "I'm not good for you. I never was. You deserve to be with somebody who doesn't need you to fix them."

The words come out with utmost sincerity. He actually believes it. He doesn't even know her, and he's sitting there, acting like he knows what's best. He doesn't even know __himself__ , and he's just spouting off these things like they're facts, because he read a few scribbles about their relationship in some diary?

Pearl would gladly take back the machete in exchange for the wrecking ball currently smashing the air out of her lungs and all her kindness out of her heart. He's not __poor Bucky__ _with amnesia_ , he's just a man. A stupid, stupid man.

"Is that what your notes told you?" she asks.

"I tried to kill you, Pearl."

She scoffs. "For the record, you tried to kill Steve a lot more than you tried to kill me."

"That doesn't make it okay," he says, like he's not sure she understands the concept.

"I don't care!" Pearl yells, throwing her arms out.

Bucky looks to be taken aback, confused even. With his brow furrowed, he stares ahead, his mouth moving as if he's trying to say something but the words escape him. He shakes his head, again. '"I was just trying to protect you."

"Don't say that," Pearl huffs. "You don't remember me. This is not about me. You were being selfish."

"Selfish?"

"Yeah!" she says. "You just decided I need to be protected, so you could feel better about yourself. So __you__ could move on thinking you did the right thing."

"It was the right thing."

The look on his face makes her want to punch his perfect teeth in. It's almost pity. Like he's somehow saving her and she doesn't even get it. Like he's so great for figuring out the fucked up nature of their previous relationship and sparing her from further pain. Like he deserves a medal for it.

"You don't get to decide that it's too much for me, Bucky. I know what I can handle. I decide," she says.

Pearl can feel her heart bouncing around her chest. Her eyes are so wide open they're beginning to dry, but she can't bring herself to blink. She stares as his face, watching the confusion creep back in.

He doesn't get it, her anger. How could he? He's right and she's irrational for acting like he's not. He __is__ right. In theory and on paper, he is right. Technically, she's been better off without him. Safe, unharmed, and with normal people problems like work or where to order lunch.

But he doesn't get to make that choice for her. He doesn't even __remember__ her.

"You know, you told me you loved me," she says quietly, looking down at the floor because his goddamn face is too much.

"I did?"

"Yeah." She nods. "Then you disappeared, and I spent the last year thinking you were probably dead." Her eyes begin to well up, so she swallows the lump in her throat, hoping it'll be enough to stop them streaming down. She looks up. "And then I find out you're alive, but you just decided to stay away, because of a notebook?"

"I never meant to hurt you. That's the opposite of what I wanted."

He gets up and takes a few steps towards her, extending out his arm. She pulls away hers as he tries to touch, stepping to the side.

"Hurt me?" she asks, her voice already breaking. "You broke my heart, Bucky."

Tears roll down her cheek as she stares into his eyes. So full of sympathy, yet completely empty. Absolutely void of any real emotion. His heavy breathing fills the space between them.

Pearl wipes away tears with her sleeve, not even bothering to care about possibly ruining her cashmere, and turns to leave. She turns the handle on the door. He doesn't stop her. He's not there anymore. She looks over her shoulder.

"We are so much more than just words on paper."


	30. Closure—You're Doing It Wrong

****CHAPTER THIRTY  
**** ** **CLOSURE**** **—** ** **YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG****

* * *

The picture attached to Tony's number pops up on her phone just before it starts to ring. It's a really good picture, even if it is a little blurry. Happy took it when they went out and got hot dogs from the guy who keeps his little cart right across the street from Stark Tower. Pearl is drunk and smiling, and Tony looks cool and handsome as always, his hand wrapped around her waist. The hot dog guy behind them is making a little heart with his hands. It was Valentine's Day. It seems like forever ago.

Pearl reaches for the phone to silence the ringing. It stings, because she's tried to call him a million times without an answer, but this isn't a good time, not after everything. Not when Bucky is three doors down and Steve sits across from her, because he's annoying and just had to come interrupt her search for alcohol, which wasn't very successful to begin with. Apparently Wakandan scientists and doctors don't drink on the job, or if they do, they don't keep their liquor in the break room.

"You're not going to get that?" Steve asks, breaking the silence between them. He glances at the phone to see who's calling. The answer elicits a slight brow raise.

Pearl shrugs. "I don't want to lie to him."

"I didn't realize you two were so close."

"Well, yeah. He's my boss and my friend. We're close, I guess," Pearl says, avoiding eye contact. "I just don't have enough friends to afford losing one."

The call ends. Pearl stares at the screen until it goes black, fiddling with her diamond necklace. She bites down on her lip, a part of her hoping he'll try again, but knowing he won't.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" Steve asks abruptly.

Pearl looks up at him. "Did Natasha tell you?"

Steve shakes his head. He's definitely more perceptive than she's ever given him credit for. That, or he reads TMZ.

"It's been a few months," she says. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just sex."

"Why don't I believe you?" he asks, amused.

Pearl smirks. "Because you're a prude."

"Alright."

"Steve, he's your friend, too. Aren't you worried?" she asks and watches his mood shift towards something more serious.

"I've sent him my apology," he says, crossing his arms and leaning back a little. "There's really nothing more I can do. Eventually, I think he'll see things rationally."

Pearl stares at him, waiting for something more. Something beyond waiting for things to cool down. It never comes. "Bucky killed his parents and you didn't tell him. Now you want him to be rational? How does that work?"

"He just needs time."

"I'm glad you're so confident," Pearl says, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, Steve, what the hell?"

"I know you're mad at me," he says.

"Well, of course I am." Pearl props herself up on the table by her elbows. "I mean, there have been times when you've made me absolutely hate you, but you were never really __wrong__. Except now."

"I know," he says. "But I'm happy you came here."

"I'm here for Bucky, remember?" she asks dryly.

Steve nods, the corner of his lip curving slightly upwards. "Still, it's good to see you."

"It's been a while," she says before taking a deep breath. She looks into his eyes. "I'm really happy you're not dead. I mean, I really hate you right now, but I am so happy I didn't have to attend your funeral."

Steve smiles. Pearl smiles. For a moment, they're just two friends who haven't seen each other in forever. Then Steve clears his throat and brings them back into the middle of a huge mess.

"I'm sorry for how things went with Bucky," he says.

Pearl buries her face in her hands, shaking her head.

Steve leans in over the table, tapping her elbow with his finger. "Alright, alright, I get it."

She peeks between her fingers to meet his gaze.

"We don't need to talk about him."

Leaning her chin up against the palm of her hand, Pearl sighs, loudly. A part of her wants to cry, again, but she's determined not to. Steve places a hand on hers. She doesn't pull away.

Steve's brows inch closer to one another. "I don't want to kick you when you're already down, but you've always been honest with me, so I feel like I need to tell you something."

"You sound very serious," Pearl says. At this point, she wonders if there's anything that could make her feel even worse.

He hesitates. "It's about Tony."

"Oh?"

"When I met him in Berlin, I got the impression that he and Pepper were simply taking a break," he says, carefully observing her face. "He said the Accords are his attempt at a compromise and he was hoping to fix things between them."

So, there __is__ something that could make her feel worse. Pearl doesn't know how to respond and simply stares ahead before letting her gaze travel across the smutty surface of the stainless steel table. Steve's still holding her hand as her other one rests against her cheek.

"I take it from your expression you didn't know?" Steve asks.

"We haven't really talked about Pepper," Pearl says, trying to sound calm, collected and mature, when all she really wants is to scream profanities from the top of her lungs. She draws her hand from Steve's, leaning back and crossing her arms tightly against her ribs. She shrugs, casually, glancing at Steve and away again. "But if that's what he wants… It's fine. It's… We're just having fun."

"If you're sure."

"I am," she says too quickly. Another glance, this time with a fake smile thrown in for good measure. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," He says.

Pearl shrugs. "I'm a reasonable adult. I understand that we're not exclusive."

"But?"

"It kind of bugs me that he didn't tell me," she says.

She's not sure why. It's not jealousy, because they're not dating. They fool around if they happen to be in the same place at the same time. They talk on the phone a lot. It's a long-distance working/friends with benefits relationship. Or it was, at least. She's not sure what it is anymore. Unless it was something else for him. Maybe it was just a rebound thing, and guys don't tell their rebounds they're trying to get their ex back.

Pearl can only hope that's not the reason, but it might be. And it bugs her to think Tony saw her as the kind of girl who would get offended over something like this. Who would get jealous, clingy and overly attached when they've agreed to keep it casual.

Most of all, it bugs her to think he saw her as that rather than as his friend.

Steve gets up from his chair and takes a few steps over to her. He grabs her hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"I know where we can find you some wine."

Pearl looks up at him from under her brow, the corner of her lip almost twitching. "If you're trying to get back on my good side, it's working."

She declines Steve's offer of company and instead retreats to the room he's set up for her, immediately changing out of her clothes and into an old t-shirt. Quickly glancing at herself in a mirror to tie her hair up into a messy bun, she notices the letters MIT sprawled across the chest of the dark red shirt.

Sitting on her bed with her bottle of wine tucked behind her knee and reading through some emails she thinks back to Gary and how he says he'll always know if she's drinking and typing. She doesn't really believe him, but just to be safe, she just types out her answers and saves them as drafts. As the bottle gets emptier, her laptop screen starts containing less and less work related material. Her email gives way to the Prada online store. The Excel chart Gary sent over gets minimized in favor of TMZ.

Somewhere between relationship advice videos and Pearl's absolute despair when there isn't one to help you deal with your ex coming back from the dead with amnesia, and looking up old classmates on Facebook, the low battery indicator lights up.

Lifting her carry-on luggage onto the bed, she digs inside for the charger only to find everything but. Her whole wardrobe of work appropriate clothing. Almost sensible heels, barely three inches tall. Travel sized toiletries. Her whole life, basically. But no charger. Rummaging through the pockets, furiously hoping she didn't leave it on the plane, her fingers come across something small, paper-like.

The origami crane Bucky made her.

It's a little crumpled up from traveling stuffed inside a small compartment, but it's still folded and intact. It's been there ever since she packed up all her stuff at the compound and hit the metaphorical road. She hasn't touched it, but she's never forgotten its existence.

She sits down on the bed, twirling the little crane between her fingers. If she believed in God or any higher power, finding it right as she's about to give up and jump on a plane would probably be considered a sign of sorts. She tucks the crane back into a little pocket in her luggage before reaching for the bottle on the nightstand. It's empty. She sighs before putting it down again, next to her charger. Absolutely certain that wasn't there five minutes ago, she plugs her laptop in.

Fifteen minutes later, Pearl finds herself in Bucky's room again. He sits on the bed, reading through something, and looks up as she shuts the door behind her.

"Hi," he says.

"I don't know why I came," she says truthfully, backing up against the door and leaning on it. The wine is simultaneously the reason she came and making her regret it. She slurs her words a little. "I think I need some kind of closure. Like, I need to have this thing over with."

Closure. She never got that, and after watching yet another relationship advice video, she wants it. She needs to leave this room, this relationship, this guy, without tears in her eyes.

"Do you regret coming here?" he asks, getting up from the bed.

"In some ways." Pearl shrugs. "Seeing you, seeing that you're alive and __almost__ in one piece, I needed that. I'm so happy you're alive." She breaks eye contact. "But the rest of this, it's just… It's too much."

"I was going to lie to you," Bucky says, making her look up at him again.

"What?"

"When I heard you were coming, I was going to pretend I didn't know who you were. I wasn't going to tell you about my notes," he says, looking straight into her eyes.

His eyes are so beautiful and distracting, Pearl gets lost. His words barely register. She blinks, trying to regain a sense of the situation. "What changed?"

"I saw you and I couldn't. I __know__ that I loved you. I have it written down and I __want__ to remember it. I wanted you to know that," he says.

Pearl can feel her heart jumping up to her throat. Her eyes twitch as she looks into his wide eyes. So pure, honest. Balling up her fist, she pokes at her palm with her freshly manicured nails to keep the tears from forming. He's not her Bucky. He doesn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry. I know the lie probably would've hurt you less," he says, his jaw tensing up.

Pearl crosses her arms and looks down. "Yeah, it would've."

If he had lied, she would probably be on a plane back to New York by now. She'd be sad about his amnesia, but at least she'd have closure. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would be a hell of a lot better than whatever this is. It would be better than having him standing in front of her, saying he somehow couldn't do the thing he's been doing all year, just because he __saw__ her?

Maybe there's a connection he felt the instant she walked in the room. Maybe there's a part of him that just __knows__. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. She won't let it.

The video Pearl watched on the subject of closure was pretty long-winded and full of all that self-help crap that used to be contained to ugly books people were ashamed to buy, but can now be found at the click of a button. She skipped over quite a lot of it, but a big part seemed to focus on forgiveness, moving on and letting go. It was really just a bunch of nonsense, but the comments seemed to suggest it would work.

The forgiveness part might have to wait a while, but the rest seem pretty straightforward.

Unsure of how much time has passed since she last spoke, Pearl lifts up her head to meet his gaze. He's looking straight at her, the corners of his eyes drooping down, carefully observing every little move. She tucks a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and bites on her lower lip. He looks worried, but sexy. Even with one arm he's hot, and she's always been a sucker for bruises.

He clears his throat, possibly noticing her gaze wandering around his body. It's his own damn fault for wearing a skin tight and sleeveless shirt. She quickly snaps back to eye contact. Back to her word of the day: closure.

"I felt really awful when they found you, you know," she says calmly.

"Why?"

"Because I stopped waiting for you and then two months later, there you are," she says with a smile, making wide gestures with her hands. She laughs a little. If God is out there, he's definitely got a sense of humor.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "You moved on?"

"I did," she says with a nod, still smiling. Her cheeks feel hot. Could be the wine.

"You're seeing someone?" he asks.

"I'm sleeping with someone." She shrugs one shoulder. "But I don't feel so bad about it now that I know it's what you wanted. It is what you wanted, right?"

He takes a step forward, his face in a slight frown. "I wanted you to be safe. And happy."

"Well, I am," she says, and in some twisted way, she believes it. She shakes her head. "But that doesn't matter. None of this matters. You'll be frozen soon and you'll come out in... Six months, a year, maybe five, and I'll see you on the flip side."

Pearl wraps her fingers around the door handle, already turning it when his voice interrupts her.

"Don't go."

She turns back towards him. "What?"

"Stay with me, just a little longer." His eyes are locked with hers.

"Bucky, I-"

She wants to say she's done, she's leaving, she's moving on, but the words don't come out. The pleading look in his eyes and the softness of his voice make her hesitate.

He takes a step towards her. "When you walked out that door earlier today, I had a weird feeling I'd just made the worst mistake of my life."

"You don't even know me," she says, trying to find something else to look at besides his eyes.

"I know," he says. "But I can't just let you walk out again."

Tapping her toes against the floor at a fast pace, Pearl finds herself swallowing back something. Tears, words, something of the sort. Her own breathing rings heavy in her ears. This isn't closure, she wants to scream out. This isn't how this is supposed to go. Less than four hours ago, she left this room crying, saying he broke her heart. This would be the perfect opportunity to do the exact opposite. Just walk out and not look back.

"You look so beautiful," he says.

Her foot stops tapping and she looks up into his eyes again. Big mistake.

He takes another step towards her. "I can see why I fell in love with you."

"Don't," she says. Her whole body feels like it's shaking when it's actually frozen still. "Don't do that."

Another step. "Do what?"

Pearl hesitates. Her cheeks are burning and she's pretty sure one little tap at the knees could knock her down. "Don't say things that make me want to kiss you."

"Why not?" he asks, his gaze immediately falling at her lips. He's standing a mere two feet away now.

"Because you look exactly like the guy I once loved." She can feel her lip tremble as he moves in even closer. She looks to the floor. "But you're not him."

"I could be."

Bucky closes the gap between their feet, and heavy breathing fills the small space. Heat from his body radiates onto hers, and she closes her eyes as his breath, washing over her ear, sends a fever through her body. The scent of the industrial-sized body wash from the compound is long gone, and all that lingers in the air is his naturally inebriating scent, and her expensive perfume.

"I miss you so much," Pearl whispers.

"I'm here now."

Eyes wide open, she tilts up her head and looks up at the man before her. His perfect blue eyes stare back at her, like they've done millions of times before. The scars on his body have grown in numbers, and his hair falls around his face, almost framing it. His lips are rougher than before, but they answer her kiss with the same aggressive passion she's used to.

He's different, but he's the same.

There are no questions asked as she runs her hands through his hair, tugging on it and pulling him in even closer when it's physically impossible. There are no words spoken, when he grabs onto her thigh, hoisting it around his, and her back meets the door with a loud thud.

Bucky kisses his way down the length of her neck, sending enough electricity down her spine to power a small village. Little red patches appear on her milky skin as he moves his mouth from one spot to another, each kiss more frantic than the last. Pearl arches her back, her hands running down his chest and under his shirt, digging her nails into his smooth, firm skin. His hand travels up her thigh, firmly grabbing hold of her ass and lifting her up with ease. She wraps her legs around his waist and cups his chin with both hands, lifting it up and smashing her lips against his, only slowing down to carefully nip at his bottom lip. He carries her to the bed.

The bed springs squeak loudly as they fall down sideways. With her legs still straddled around him, she rolls on top. He runs his hand up her bare leg and under her shirt, his fingers trailing softly around her bellybutton and between her breasts, rising and falling with the rhythm of her panting breath. Nothing between them besides his sweatpants, her silk underwear, friction and heat, she slowly grinds on his lap. He moans, closing his eyes. She grabs his hand, pinning his wrist down above his head, and leans in, slowly brushing her lips against his as she slides her other hand down his chest, stopping only to run her finger along the waist of his pants for a second.

The world around them simply stops existing, as if swallowed into a void, taking everything that's happened with it. They melt into each other like two popsicles on a hot summer day.

Two hours later, the world comes rushing back.

With her head resting on his arm, and his leg resting on top of hers, Pearl lies in the cheap, uncomfortable sheets now dirty from sweat, looking at the man sleeping next to her, wondering just how she ended up here.

There was the wine, of course, and her broken heart, still raw from earlier when he confessed to staying away on purpose. There was his body. His eyes. His plea for her to stay. She couldn't walk out like he did, because she does remember everything. A little eye contact and a few hopeful words made her believe it didn't even matter if this Bucky did these stupid things. __Her Bucky__ would never. Her Bucky was the one telling her the truth and hoping for forgiveness. Her Bucky was the one who couldn't lie.

She runs her hand down her chest, stopping at the surgical scar on her ribs. The HYDRA bullet that nearly killed her on their first date, right after their first dance. The night Bucky met her family for the first time. The night he sat by her bed, waiting for her to wake up.

An unpleasant thought pops into her head. There was something about that night he never told her, but someone else did. But it was nothing. Unless it wasn't.

Maybe it wasn't a one time thing. Maybe it happened a lot. He attacked her a few times, so it's not unthinkable to imagine him coming to the same conclusion over and over again. Natasha was there to stop him the first time, but if he had that thought again, going through with it would've been harder as their affection towards one another grew.

Her Bucky wouldn't do it, but he would write it down.

His leg suddenly feels too heavy on her, so she pushes it off herself and swings her legs over the side of the bed. She finds her panties on the floor and gets up to put them on. Bucky slowly opens his eyes to the sound of her feet nervously tapping on the floor while her eyes search frantically for her shirt.

"What are you doing?" he asks, furrowing his brow, and props himself up with his elbow.

She runs her hands through her hair, not even glancing towards him. "I can't do this."

"Wait, Pearl." He jumps up from the bed and tries to touch her arm, but she takes a step to the side.

"No, don't," Pearl says, exasperated. Finally locating her shirt, she picks it up and puts it on before turning to look at him. She sighs. "I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"What's wrong?" he asks, his face full of confusion.

"I can't stop thinking about your diary," she says, crossing her arms and holding them tightly against her chest. The room suddenly feels colder. Her words are met with a questioning look. "You wrote everything down, right?"

"I think so."

"So, when I got shot and you thought about leaving to protect me, you wrote that down?"

Bucky looks stunned. She's not supposed to know. He never told her. He hesitates before speaking. "Yes."

"Natasha told me that a few months after you disappeared. I didn't think much about it then, but it's beginning to make sense," Pearl says, nodding along to her own words like she's hopped up on coffee or something.

"What is?"

She takes a deep breath and locks eyes with him. "Dear diary, HYDRA agents almost killed Pearl tonight. She'd be much safer without me."

His eyes widen. "No-"

"Dear diary, today I tried to kill Pearl again. She says she's fine. She shouldn't have to be."

Bucky stares ahead, slowly blinking. Pearl's lower lip quivers. She swallows a lump in her throat, but it does nothing to keep tears from forming. Her voice shakes.

"Dear diary, I think I love her. I want her to be happy, but I don't know if that's possible with me."

Bucky remains silent, his eyes still wide open. He's breathing slowly.

"Yeah, I thought that might be it," Pearl says, letting out a nervous laugh.

He steps closer. "But they're just words. Like you said, we were more than that."

"They're your words," she says, looking down at the floor. She takes another deep breath, trying to stabilize herself before looking up again. "This wasn't a decision you made because you forgot everything. You thought about this when we were together."

Bucky shakes his head. "What happened? Five minutes ago, you were lying in my arms."

"What happened?" she shrieks, throwing her arms out. "What happened to you? You don't even remember me and now you're just jumping into bed with me? I got caught up in the moment, because you're you and you smell nice and I miss you __so much__ and I drank a bottle of wine before I came here. What's your excuse?"

"I'm just trying to fix things. I can't explain it, but it felt right."

"I know that," she says. "I thought maybe I could get past this, because I did love you and I thought you'd never do anything to hurt me, but I feel like I don't even know what to believe anymore."

"I thought I was doing the right thing," he says, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "You have to believe me."

"I do."

"But I was wrong."

His face is serious. His tone is firm and defiant. He studies her face, looking for reassurance.

"No, Bucky," she says quietly. "I think you were right."


	31. Mac And Cheese

****CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE  
**** ** **MAC AND CHEESE****

* * *

As Pearl steps out of the plane and back on American soil, in the symbolic form of a jet way, she's not expecting a welcoming committee. With Natasha on the run and the situation with Tony, she hasn't even told anyone she's coming. Beyond a decent cup of coffee and some fresh air, she's not expecting much.

JFK is crowded, as always. Pearl follows a weary group of fellow travelers through border control, past baggage claim and out the door. Parked behind a long line of taxis she spots a familiar black Audi—and a well-dressed man leaning against it.

Happy nods towards her, opening the passenger door. "Miss Palmer."

"Don't you have better things to do than drive me around?" Pearl asks as she walks up to him.

He smiles. "Nice to see you, too."

"Why did he send you?"

"Just get in." He gestures towards the car before reaching for her little carry-on bag.

The second Pearl slides in, she sees him. Sitting right there in the left seat, wearing Prada from head to toe, the one and only Tony Stark. Happy closes the door behind her. She fights her first instinct to reach over, kiss his cheek and wrap her arms around him, but instead she crosses her legs and settles into the comfortable leather seats.

"How did you know I was gonna be here?" she asks.

"I asked Gary," Tony says. His expression gives nothing away, making Pearl uneasy about why he's there.

She nods, biting down on her lip. "I'm just on a ten hour layover and then I'm heading to LA."

"Why would you book yourself a flight with a ten hour layover when there's one leaving for LA in an hour?"

"Well, I don't have to be there until Monday and this way, I'm saving the company hundreds of dollars," Pearl says.

It's almost true, too. Telling the whole truth—the one where the airline automatically charged her trip from her company account and wouldn't give her a refund, so she ended up switching her first class flight to Wakanda for three economy class flights—would just end with him telling her, again, that it doesn't matter how much she spends.

Tony doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that she's using her expense account to fly around on personal business. He simply cocks an eyebrow, like she's insane for not taking the next plane out. And then he smiles. Pearl breathes a silent sigh of relief.

The car takes off.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"I booked a suite for you at the Airport Hilton, if you want to get some sleep before your next flight," he says.

She can't help but roll her eyes. "That kind of invalidates the money I saved by booking this crappy connection."

"Probably," he says with a grin before turning his focus towards his phone.

For a moment it's completely silent, and Pearl almost wonders if he's just here to pick up from where they left off before the fight. Just continue on living like nothing happened. He's not a big talker, and she's not exactly eager to explain what happened in Wakanda, but they can't just ignore everything. It didn't work with Bucky and it won't work now.

"I'm sorry about your parents," she says, making him look up at her.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, as if looking for the easiest way out of the conversation. She stares right into his eyes, not blinking.

"Did you know he killed them?" he asks, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

"Not until recently," she says.

His eyes narrow. "Did you see him?"

"I did," she says. "He's a total mess again."

"Good."

"Tony," she says with a sigh. "I know you want to blame someone, but he's not the guy to blame. He was just the weapon."

"That doesn't mean I have to like the guy."

"Of course not. You don't have to like Steve right now, either. I know I don't," she says, looking into his defiant eyes, and shrugs. "But he is family."

He raises an eyebrow. "Family?"

"Yeah. Some people say friends are the family you choose, but I don't believe that," Pearl says. "I mean, I certainly didn't choose Steve, and me and Natasha can barely make it through a conversation without an argument, but somehow, they're the people I've got."

She smiles, watching the expression on his face soften. "And so are you," she says.

He glances down, clearing his throat before meeting her eyes again. "Look, I've missed you, kid, and if you need me to say it, I will," he says firmly.

"Say what?"

"That I'm sorry."

" _ _You're__ sorry?"

If she was a cartoon character, Pearl's jaw would be rolling down the floor and her eyebrows would be jumping up at the ceiling, but she's not, so all of that just happens in her head. Taken aback, she simply stares ahead as he continues.

"I completely overreacted. I thought I was doing the right thing, but Rogers had all the support," he says. "Even yours."

"Are you saying you've changed your mind?" she asks.

"I'm saying-"

He stops mid-sentence and reaches over to reveal a screen in the back of the front seats. After a few taps on the touch screen, a flashy news broadcast begins to play.

 _ _"...massive breakout in Raft prison earlier today is suspected to be the work of Steve Rogers, better known by his alias Captain America…"__

Steve?

 _ _"...in violation of the Sokovia Accords…"__

What?

 _ _"...the escaped prisoners are not likely to be dangerous, though caution is advised…"__

Pearl watches, stunned, as the broadcasters try to paint Steve as some sort of a war criminal and urge citizens to immediately report any sightings to the authorities, as if the public would turn their back on Captain America. Tony cuts off the video just as they begin talking about him and his unwavering support for the Accords.

"When did that happen?" she asks.

"About two hours before your plane landed."

"And you're just… here?"

"I'm doing everything in my power to bring back these dangerous fugitives, and you are a known associate," he says with a mischievous twinkle in his eye before giving her a questioning look. "But if anyone should ask-"

"I haven't seen Steve Rogers in months," Pearl says immediately, completely straight-faced.

"Good."

"So, what happens now?" she asks.

"Now we wait for the dust to settle," he says. His forehead creases. "And I would advise against these kinds of trips in the near future."

With a strained smile, Pearl shakes her head. "Believe me, I have no intention of going back."

"What happened?"

She stays silent and looks out the window. An endless stream of taxis surrounds them, all packed with eager, bright-eyed visitors or travelers returning home. The hotel is already visible in the distance. With this traffic, walking would've been quicker.

"The love of your life just came back from the dead. You must have something to say."

She sighs. "Please don't call him that."

"What happened, kid?"

"The same thing that always happens. I get sucked into this illusion that everything in my life will somehow be alright and then I come back to reality."

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her in close.

"Tony?" she asks quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

He responds with a questioning hum. She wants to ask about Pepper and why he hasn't brought it up. The words almost come out, but as she sinks further into the comfort of his arms, the idea of ruining the moment becomes less and less appealing. Maybe she can get away with pretending for a little while before charging headfirst into another set of drama.

"Forget it," she says.

With its separate living room, king-size bed and a shower that could double as another room or two, the cream-colored suite at the Hilton is not quite the fanciest room Pearl has ever been in, but way too big for a quick nap nonetheless.

"You could've just gotten a normal room," Pearl says, coming out of the bathroom after washing her hands. "Or no room at all."

"Where's the fun in that?" Tony sits down on the couch, propping his feet up onto the table. "If we didn't have a room, we wouldn't have room service."

He points towards the corner. Pearl turns to see a room service cart parked by the closet. Tony nods towards it, so she walks over. Next to a pitcher of lemonade, there is a large round lid. She lifts it up to reveal a pan full of delicious looking macaroni and cheese, steaming hot like it was just delivered.

"Your favorite, right?" Tony asks.

She looks over and smiles. "Yeah."

He looks satisfied with the answer and pulls out his phone again. For a second, Pearl just stares at him. It's just mac and cheese, sure, but she doesn't recall mentioning it to him more than once, and even then he made fun of her culinary preferences. But he remembered. And he showed up at the airport. And apologized. And it hits her.

The most functioning relationship in her life right now is the one where she's having inappropriate relations with her boss. It's almost healthy, too, if she forgets about the whole Pepper thing. And for now, that's exactly what she plans to do. She takes off her leather jacket and tosses it on a chair in the corner.

"I can get out of your hair, if you want to sleep," he says as she begins taking off her shoes.

"I'm not really tired." From the corner of her eye, she sees he's so focused on whatever email he's reading, he doesn't even notice as she takes off her leggings and socks. "I think I'll just take a shower."

He mumbles something in response. As she pulls off her shirt, she's left with nothing but a hot pink bra and panties, perfectly matched of course. She walks over, positioning herself right in front of him with one hand on her waist, and waits for him to look up.

When he does, she slightly tilts her head and asks with her most seductive look, "Want to join me?"

In one swift motion, his phone gets tossed into the corner of the couch, and his hands grab onto hers to pull her down. Pearl laughs, landing on top of him with her legs straddled against his. As Tony's hands find a resting place on her waist, his eyes wander around her body with a wanting, burning gaze before meeting hers. Grabbing onto his collar, she pulls him in for a kiss, to which he responds eagerly. The touch of his lips against hers is almost magnetic, leaving her wanting for more as he moves down to her neck. She unbuttons his shirt, almost tearing it off. Her hands roam around his back, long nails digging into his thick skin, harder and harder with every kiss he plants on her neck, and her legs hold onto his, tighter and tighter with every exhale he breathes in her ear.

Pushing her body closer to his, she can feel him grabbing a hold of her thighs. She wraps her legs and arms around him, when he stands up from the couch and carries her away. The cold stone of the bathroom counter against her bare legs sends a sudden shock through her heated body. As her hands roam around his chest and move down to unbuckle his belt, he mutters something under his increasingly heavy breath.

In that moment it doesn't even matter, that he'd rather be there with Pepper, and she just left Bucky to be frozen in Wakanda.

It's better than being alone.


	32. Pepper Potts

****CHAPTER THIRTY-**** ** **TWO  
**** ** **PEPPER POTTS****

* * *

"Is this standard practice?"

Pepper raises an eyebrow at the question. It's as condescending as a simple eyebrow raise possibly can be. "A yearly review? Yes, I'd say so."

She's dressed in all white and matches the expensive decor in her Los Angeles office to a T.

"No, I mean, I already had a performance review with Gary just last month," Pearl says, trying to convey in the politest possible way that she is, in fact, not an idiot and absolutely aware of the concept of a yearly performance review. "And you're the CEO."

Pepper stares.

"Has there been a problem with my work?" Pearl asks.

"No. The numbers don't lie, and neither does Gary," Pepper says with a strained smile. "But I believe in taking a personal interest in all my employees."

"Alright."

Pepper pulls out a file from the top drawer of her desk and flips it open. Putting on her reading glasses, she peruses the papers inside. After a brief moment, she looks up from the file and asks, "So, Miss Palmer, you graduated second in your class at NYU, correct?"

Pearl nods. "Yes."

"And after that, you haven't practiced law?"

"Not until this job, no."

Pepper returns her focus towards the file after picking up a pen from her desk. She runs the pen down the length of the page, as if trying to find something specific. She looks up again. "When did you start working for Stark Industries, exactly?"

"For the legal department?" Pearl asks. Pepper nods. "It was June of last year."

Pepper scribbles something down. "And this was a month after Mister Stark paid for your hospital fees?"

"Yes, I suppose that's correct, but I was already employed by the company."

"Yes, of course. As a __secretary__ in the Avengers facility."

Coming from a former personal assistant, the word secretary as some sort of an insult is somewhat hilarious. Pearl remains straight-faced, even though this meeting keeps getting stranger and stranger.

"Is that what this is about? Hospital fees?" she asks.

"No, Miss Palmer. I'm merely trying to figure out the events that led to Mister Stark promoting a secretary to a job most lawyers would kill to have."

And with that, it all becomes clear. Pearl's lips curve into a smile, and though it's barely noticeable, she's sure Pepper's cool confidence takes a stumble. Pearl crosses her arms and leans back in her chair, relaxed.

"Or you could just talk to me like an actual person and ask me that one question we both know you want to," she says, still smiling, but her eyes stare intently into Pepper's.

Pepper stares back before letting out a sigh. "When did you start sleeping with him?"

"About two months ago," Pearl says truthfully.

"How did it happen?"

"It was my birthday. We had too much to drink," Pearl says and shrugs. "I think we were both lonely."

She leaves out Shanghai and the diamond necklace, knowing it's not what Pepper wants to hear. And if Tony really wants her back, Pearl isn't about to ruin that by even suggesting they've ever been more than friends with benefits.

"And after that?"

"We've been," Pearl says and pauses to stop herself from smiling. She clears her throat and continues, "having fun."

Pepper raises an eyebrow. "Fun?"

"Yes, fun. Casual fun. As friends," Pearl says, dismissively shaking her head. "Is this really necessary? I mean, if you want him back, you should be talking to him and not me."

"I just need to know how this little fling will affect us in the future." Pepper closes the file in front of her. "And by us, I mean the company."

Pearl doesn't respond. Her confusion is written all over her face.

Pepper places her hands on the desk, intertwining her fingers together, and leans in a little. "You're a liability, Miss Palmer."

"You think I'm going to sue?" Pearl asks in disbelief.

"It would fit your profile," Pepper says. "You did file a lawsuit against your latest employer, correct?"

"For wrongful termination, yeah."

"A mistake, if I may say. You would've walked away with a larger settlement, had you sued for sexual harassment."

Pearl can feel her body tensing up and her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. From belittling her position as a secretary to suggesting she's slept her way to the top and now this, Pepper has made her opinion of Pearl very clear, and it's getting old. Pearl fights every urge to slam her fists on the table and walk out, for Tony's sake. Even though he's a jerk for never telling her about his plan to win back Pepper, possibly to avoid her causing a scene, he's been through enough lately. He needs this.

For Tony's sake, she'll sit here and let Pepper say whatever she wants, but deny her the satisfaction of an emotional reaction. She's not letting Pepper make her out to be some sort of a scorned lover out for revenge.

"You're right," she says and flashes smile. "But that would be immoral. I wanted it. __He__ wanted it. There was no harassment."

"I applaud your moral code, but who's to say you won't feel drastically different when __he__ stops buying you diamonds and designer dresses?"

Clearly, Pepper's done her homework. Pearl bites her tongue. After an endless stream of comments on TMZ called her a gold-digger, Pepper doing so is just the cherry on top.

"I won't. Trust me."

"Well, lawyers can be a fickle crowd," Pepper says dryly. "With the gifts, the hospital bills and the unusual career track, you would have a good case. I have no doubt you could get a jury to believe you were a victim, so the company would offer you a settlement."

Pepper isn't stupid. There's no way she thinks Pearl could actually win a case like that. A jury might believe a sob story, but all the evidence, all their correspondence, pictures and witnesses, would prove her to be a liar. Pepper would force the company to settle, but only to keep it from going to court and to keep the press coverage minimal.

"What are you getting at?" Pearl asks, though she already knows the answer.

"I would like to avoid that unpleasantness in the future and just offer you a settlement now."

Pepper opens another one of her desk drawers and pulls out a stack of papers. Placing it on the desk, she slides it over. Pearl grabs the papers and skims through them. The document appears to be a standard covenant not to sue. By signing, Pearl would forgo all possible legal action against Tony and Stark Industries. There's also an extensive confidentiality agreement.

"Take your time and read through it," Pepper says.

Pearl glares at her, but keeps flipping through the pages. At the very end of the document, just a little before the line where her signature goes, there's a number that would make the average gold-digger fall from their seat. It only manages to disgust Pearl. It's not a settlement. It's a bribe.

"This is a very generous offer," she says calmly.

"The company is confident it'll help you adjust to a life __without__ Mister Stark."

The smile appearing on Pepper's face is genuine. Not friendly, but genuine. Pearl can feel her own breathing slowing down, and Pepper's words ringing in her ears. She looks down at the papers again, flipping through them but not focused on a single word. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself, that for some unknown reason, the woman sitting opposite her is Tony's great love.

 _Tony needs this._

"I don't want your money," Pearl says. She slams her hands down on the stack of papers and stares Pepper in the eye. "I'll make some changes and have my revised version delivered to you tomorrow."

"Alright, Miss Palmer." Pepper gets up from her chair and extends out her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Pearl gets up, clutching the end of her relationship with Tony in her hands. She says nothing, simply grabs her bag from the floor and pushes her chair neatly forward.

"Pleasure's all yours," she says.

Three days later, after work, Pearl opens the door to her hotel room and steps inside. She places her bag on the dresser by the door, kicks off her heels and begins to take off her blazer. As she turns to the right, and spots someone on the couch, she jumps back, ready to reach for the first item that could be used as a weapon, before realizing it's just Tony. He laughs at her miniature heart attack.

"How did you get in here?" she asks.

"I told the staff I'm paying for this room," he says, getting up and buttoning his jacket.

Pearl nods. She folds her blazer over the back of a chair, trying to avoid eye contact for the split second she has before he starts up with the conversation she doesn't want to have.

Tony takes a few steps forward. "You haven't answered my calls."

"I've been busy," Pearl says with a shrug and watches as his brows creep towards one another, as if he knows it's a lie. She turns to her bag and digs out her phone. Looking over her shoulder, she casually says, "I assume you're here to tell me about you and Pepper."

"How do you know about that?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

"I have my ways." She forces herself to smile. "I'm happy for you."

"You are?"

"Totally," she says lightly, swallowing up all the words she'd rather say, and smiles even wider. She glances down at her watch. "I'm sorry I can't stay and chat, but like I said, I'm really busy. I just came by to change."

She opens up the top drawer of the dresser and begins rifling through her clothes as if she's really come to change. As if she's not just trying to get out of this situation before accidentally blurting out the whole Pepper incident.

Acting like she's happy for him isn't the hard part. She is happy for him. He gets to be with the woman he loves. The hard part is acting like she's not about to lose one of the few friends she has left, the only one that isn't currently hiding from authorities. All because of some red-headed devil, she has to pretend to be too busy to even pick up the phone.

She hears his steps nearing, every soft thud against the floor making her heart race a little faster. Breathing in, she closes her eyes and tightly grips onto the drawer. As his hand grabs her shoulder, she swallows the lump lodged in her throat and breathes out.

"Pearl," he says sharply.

She turns back in a snap and looks straight into his eyes. "It's fine, Tony."

His eyes seem to search hers for the truth, but only find the version she's willing to share.

"I owe you an explanation, at least," he says.

"You don't owe me anything," she says and rolls her eyes. Grabbing his hand, she chucks it off her shoulder. "I knew what I signed up for."

Tony grins. "It was fun while it lasted."

"It was," Pearl says and can't help but mimic his expression, all the good, sexy memories flooding into her thoughts. Feeling her cheeks burn, she quickly snaps back to normal. "But you'll be happy with her. It's meant to be."

Grabbing her chin, he lifts it up and places a soft kiss on her forehead. Pearl closes her eyes, knowing full well this might be the last time they talk.

"Just… Don't let her destroy Iron Man," she says before looking up at him.

He gives her a funny look. "I __am__ Iron Man."

"Exactly." She smiles, glancing down to look at her watch again. "I really have to go now."

With one foot already out the door, he turns to say, "See you soon, kid."

Pearl nods and smiles, waving a quick goodbye as the door closes with a soft click.


	33. Happy Birthday

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE  
** **HAPPY BIRTHDAY**

* * *

"Hey, kid."

Late on a Friday night, the storage room turned into a temporary office located in the furthest, most isolated corner of the east wing of Stark Industries Headquarters, would probably be the last place Pearl would expect to see Tony Stark, but as she looks up from her computer, there he stands, leaning up against the door frame.

"Tony," she says and stares. "This is a surprise."

"Are you avoiding me?" he asks, walking over.

He shoots a quick glance and a funny look towards the cardboard boxes piled up behind her, all delivered during the last month from different online retailers. He doesn't make a comment, unlike Gary, who likes to remind her that she can't possibly fit all her new things in her luggage when it's time to leave LA again.

"What? That's ridiculous," she says, trying to sound light.

He mocks a frown, sitting down on the edge of her desk. "I call, but you don't answer. I text, and you barely reply."

The tone of his voice is facetious, as always, so another quick dismissal almost leaves Pearl's lips in an instant, but as she looks up into his eyes, she finds herself stopping. Somewhere beyond the facade, there's actual sadness.

She looks away, letting out a heavy sigh and gesturing towards all the papers piled on her desk. "I've just been swamped with work."

"That's nothing new."

"Well, Gary's given me more responsibilities. We're almost at the end of this quarter, and we still haven't found that new employee," Pearl says. "We've had interviews, but Gary just keeps saying they're all too robotic and I'm like 'Gary, they're exactly like you.'"

"Maybe he wants someone like you, instead," Tony says. "Not that there is anyone quite like you out there."

As she looks up again, he's smiling that infectious smile of his. It's only been a month, and she's used to not seeing him for long periods of time, but cutting him out completely hasn't been easy. She's even tried to think of something to make him so angry he wouldn't want to talk to her ever again, but considering how she's gone on an on about family and sticking with them, it probably wouldn't work. And short of murdering Pepper or Rhodey, there's probably nothing that could make him furious enough.

"So, what brings you to LA?" she asks, cutting off her own thoughts before they get a chance to spiral out of control like two weeks ago, when she had one too many glasses of champagne at a party and planned out a whole new life in Iceland. Gary, who got them invited to the party in the hopes it would been a good recruitment opportunity, was surprisingly not mad about having to drag her out of there.

"I'm trying to convince Pepper to move back to New York with me." He pauses. "She's not quite as excited about it as I thought."

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Pearl says with a smile and shrugs one shoulder.

"Come on." He gets up. "I'll buy you dinner. We'll catch up."

She shakes her head. "I really can't leave right now."

"Oh, come on. I won't tell your boss."

A weak laugh escapes her. "Tony, really. I'm sorry."

"You'd tell me if something was wrong?" he asks, his eyes narrowing in on hers.

"Of course."

She looks straight back at him, smiling feebly. He seems to believe it, though she's not sure if that makes the situation better or worse. Maybe it would be easier if he caught her lying. Maybe it would be better to tell him something is wrong. Just tell him that she doesn't want to see him again, instead of hoping he'd get the hint. Just make up some crap about how it's too painful to keep being friends and be done with it.

But every time she tries, every time she picks up the phone to call and ask him not to contact her anymore, every time she almost books a plane ticket to the other side of the world, she can't do it.

"It's my birthday next week," he says.

She nods. "I know."

It's marked in her calendar in big, uppercase letters. Below it, the word 'surprise?' is crossed out multiple times.

"Pepper's throwing me a small party. She said she'd invite you."

Of course she did.

"Yeah, she did," Pearl lies.

"You'll be there?"

"I'll try."

His phone starts ringing. He grabs it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. "It's Pepper."

Of course it is. As Tony mutes the ring tone, Pearl begins to wonder if Pepper has implanted a tracking device on him.

"I should get going," he says, pointing towards the phone and turning to leave. At the door, he glances over his shoulder and smiles. "I'll see you at the party."

She watches as he disappears around the corner, putting the phone up to his ear.

On Sunday, he calls twice. Once on Monday. On Wednesday, she sends him a short email to apologize for not answering. On Friday, lying in her hotel bed with the covers wrapped around her like a tortilla and watching QVC, she sends him a text.

 _(9:13pm) happy birthday. sorry i couldn't be there. don't want to get anyone sick._

He doesn't respond; she can't exactly blame him.

June rolls around quickly. Gary buys Pearl a red velvet cupcake to celebrate the anniversary of them working together, eight days late but it's the thought that counts. Midway through, Penny sends some new pictures of her children, along with an invite to the Fourth of July block party. Pearl decides not to go. Explaining the whole Bucky thing was hard enough when he disappeared, and she plans to avoid all questions about his return at least until Christmas.

But nine days later, she finds herself standing on her parents' porch, knocking on the door. Mom opens, probably expecting the postman or Tracy from next door, but as the realization dawns on her, she doesn't even say anything but immediately wraps Pearl into a tight hug.

"Mom?" Pearl asks, her voice almost shaking.

"Yes, sweetie?"

They pull apart, with mom still holding onto Pearl's hands. She looks over her daughter's red eyes and smudged eyeliner, the big smile plastered on her face fading fast.

"I think I messed up."


	34. Cheerleader For Happiness

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR  
** **CHEERLEADER FOR HAPPINESS**

* * *

Pearl remembers going to the annual Fourth of July block party in her neighborhood every year when she was young. It was always one of the highlights of the year for her Mom, who used to bake cookies and decorate them with red, white and blue frosting, and organize games like three-legged races or hot dog eating contests. Though she's missed a few years, the smell of roasting meat, the sight of balloons everywhere and the sound of music played by Mister Anderson's crappy band make Pearl feel like she's sixteen again, stealing beer from the coolers and drinking them in the garage.

Sitting on the porch swing, Pearl looks out at the people having fun and children playing. After a few too many questions about her life from nosy neighbors and guys who used to be hot, she decided to fake dehydration and retreat to the porch with a pitcher of iced tea. Her nieces and nephews run around the street waving their little flags, and Penny's little twins roll around on a blanket set up on the front lawn. Everybody looks happy, even Patrick. Though he's raised some questions about Pearl's sudden appearance, he's been less of a jerk than usual.

Her attention is suddenly caught by Jack running up to his mother and fervently pointing towards something down the street. As she turns her head and sees him, it's almost as if time slows down while her brain works overtime to figure out what's happening. After no contact for over a month, she was kind of expecting not to see him ever again, but he's walking towards her, his expression completely unreadable. He's there.

Only thing she knows for sure, this isn't just a social call.

Tony walks up the steps, looking at the house with great interest before laying his eyes on her. "Did you know the end of your street is closed off?"

She nods. "Yes. We're having a block party."

"Huh." He looks around. "Quite a long walk from there."

The corner of her lip twitches up. She says dryly, "Yeah, must've been a real rough 300 yards."

As their eyes meet, there's a playful twinkle in his. He smirks, making her smile. Whatever his reason for showing up here ends up being, it's good to see him again.

"Why are you in Ohio?" he asks, once again eyeing the house.

"My parents live here," she says. "Why are you?"

"Funny story, actually." He leans up against the porch column, crossing his arms. "Two days ago I got a surprising call from the Cleveland Food Bank, thanking me for my amazingly generous donation of half a million dollars."

Pearl can feel a cold wave rush over her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She crosses her legs and leans forward. "How is that surprising? You donate millions of dollars every year."

"True. Stark Industries has a vast docket of charities we support, and I attend the occasional fundraiser." Tony's eyes narrow in on hers. "Normally, I wouldn't have thought much of it, but the man on the other line, a priest of some sort, uh, he asked me why I chose _that_ particular food bank. He asked if I had friends or family in the area."

"Priests can be so nosy." Pearl rolls her eyes. "Like, dude, just take the money and roll with it."

"He remembers you very well."

He's staring into her eyes. There's no escape. The only thing she can do is feign ignorance and hope her high-pitched tone sounds genuine. "Really? What a small world."

"It's not that small."

"So, you know everything?"

"I know Pepper paid you two million to get out of my life, and thanks to Linda in Accounting, I know where that money went." He shrugs. "What I don't know is why you accepted."

"You love her. You want to be with her," she says. "I just want you to be happy. Even if that means we can't be friends."

"You should've told me."

"I got the impression Pepper didn't want that," she says. "And I didn't either." She sighs, running her fingers through her hair before looking up at him again. "I mean… Option A, you say I'm too important to give up, and you tell Pepper we're going to remain friends. And then you two fight about it, and I feel awful, and you ultimately end up resenting me."

"And option B?"

He sits down next to her.

She bites down on her lower lip, looking into his eyes again. "Option B… You say, 'It was nice knowing you, Pearl' and I end up crying on the bathroom floor, because I foolishly thought you'd choose A."

"You should've given me the chance to make that choice."

She smiles feebly. "What can I say? I have trust issues."

He's about to say something, when he spots something from the corner of his eye. Or rather, someone. Pearl turns her head to see her nephew Jack standing by the mailbox, staring straight at the two of them, nervously twirling his fingers.

"What's he doing?" Tony asks.

"He's a big fan." Pearl smiles, and yells out, "Hey, Jack, why don't you go ask your mom if she's got any pictures of your Halloween costume? And you can show them to Tony a little later, okay?"

Jack nods excitedly and runs off.

"He dressed up as Iron Man," Pearl says.

Tony watches as Jack skips over to the barbecue station on the Kensingtons' yard. Pearl nudges him with her elbow.

"But seriously, Tony, I'm fine. I'm happy you're happy."

"Happy?" he snaps. "Do you know __why__ Pepper did this?"

"Not really." She shrugs. "Maybe she didn't want your old fling hanging around, because it would look bad in the press, or she just couldn't handle knowing we've had sex. Maybe she just doesn't trust me. I mean, she treated me like I was a gold-digging tramp."

"You're wrong on all accounts."

"Then why?"

"Because according to her, I'm falling for you."

 _What?_

It's ridiculous. Totally out of the blue crazy jealousy, that should elicit a laugh-out-loud response. Tony, falling for her? Completely insane. But she doesn't laugh. The way he says it isn't funny. It isn't 'Oh, Pepper's being silly. The two of us? Can you imagine?'

It's something else. His eyes are locked with hers, observing every twitch and blink. He's waiting for something.

"You told her she's crazy, right?" she asks, calmly, though her heart is suddenly pounding a million times per second.

"She's completely insane," he says. "But she's also right."

"What?"

This isn't real. This isn't happening.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

This can't happen. Not now.

"But… You and Pepper… I-" Pearl stammers, trying to find the right words to say.

He shakes his head. "This isn't about her."

"Of course it is!" she shouts out. "You're only here, because you two are having problems."

He's not there __for her__ _._ He's there, because it's the easy thing to fall back on when things get tough. The two of them, swearing off love and relationships for good. It's a distraction. A great, time-worthy distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.

"As the queen of running away from everything, I'm not letting you do this," she says, staring at him defiantly.

"It's a good thing I don't need your permission," he says. "Pepper and I are over."

"Just like that?"

"Yes." His eyes drill into hers, his brows inching towards one another. "What about this is so hard for you to understand? We agreed to work on our problems, and by that I mean the problem that is me, myself and I, and then she does something like _this_."

She shrugs. Her foot keeps tapping on the floor board. "Okay, so she's a little crazy and jealous-"

"A little?" he interrupts. "She didn't even apologize. She said she was acting in our best interest, and that eventually I would grow bored of this infatuation and come to see you as an unwanted distraction."

"Maybe there's-"

He interrupts her again. "I know you're trying to be a cheerleader for my happiness, kid, but you're missing my point completely."

"Well, I mean, I-"

She stops herself this time, not knowing how to end the sentence. Trying to defend Pepper feels idiotic, because only someone truly crazy could see the logic in her actions, and Pearl doesn't feel like she's quite there yet. She stares at him, her mouth slightly open and her heart about to jump out of her chest and run down the closed off street. And it finally sinks in. Pepper didn't pay her, because she couldn't trust her, but because she couldn't trust __him__. And she was right.

 _This is real._

"I can't stop thinking about you," he repeats firmly.

Pearl feels as if there's suddenly a thousand eyes on her, but a quick glance to the side reveals everyone is still doing their own thing. She breathes in, and out, preparing herself for this conversation.

"Tony…"

"I like what we have. You have your life, I have mine. It works. It's honest. It's simple."

"Nothing in your life, or mine, is ever simple," she says and looks down at her knees.

"This is," he says. "I'm a grown man and I don't expect this to be anything beyond what it used to be. I won't make you promises I can't keep."

"Tony, I-"

His hand finds hers, and she looks up. The words get stuck somewhere between her brain and her tongue. She can't say them, because for a second, they don't exist. For a second, she's just a girl, sitting on the porch and listening to a guy confess his feelings the best way he can.

It almost feels like it could work, the two of them.

Almost.

"I want you and only you."

He runs his hand up her back, pulling her in closer. Pearl closes her eyes, almost letting their lips touch, only to pull back right before they do.

"Tony, I'm pregnant," she blurts out.

His eyes open in an instant. For a moment that seems longer than it actually is, he simply stares at her, still holding onto her and her hand before leaning back a little. He doesn't let go. His mouth seems to be trying to find words to say as his eyes begin searching her face for a sign this might be a joke.

"I did not see that coming," he finally says.

Pearl lets out a nervous laugh, as if to say she didn't either. The nuns at school always said she'd end up accidentally pregnant, but they probably didn't have this in mind.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"I don't know," she says truthfully.

He seems to think for a minute before speaking again. "Do you want kids?"

"I've thought about it, sure. But it wasn't a plan. It was just a nice idea, like maybe someday I'll start exercising or maybe someday I'll have a baby." She sighs. "You know? This is just very unexpected."

She looks out at the party again, trying to maintain her composure. He's still holding on, and she's trying very hard not to find deeper meaning in that fact, but failing.

"Because you showed up here, my mom probably thinks you're the father," she says, keeping her eyes on the children running around with balloons. She can't look at him. Not now. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she continues, "But you're not."

"You're sure?"

She nods.

"Like I said, nothing is ever simple."


	35. Park Avenue

****CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE  
**** ** **PARK AVENUE****

* * *

The faint sound of an alarm clock blaring in the next room wakes Pearl up. It stops just as she opens her eyes to see her dimly lit surroundings. A quick glance at the wall clock confirms her first thought; dad still wakes up at five in the morning.

She rolls onto her side, coming face to face with Tony, still sleeping peacefully. After everything, she still can't believe he stayed the night. Careful not to wake him, she slides off the bed. The old book he was reading before she fell asleep in his arms rests on Philip's old nightstand next to his phone and his fancy watch.

Walking downstairs, Pearl finds her father in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

"Morning, sweetie." He picks up a cup from the counter as she takes a seat at the table. "Coffee?"

She shakes her head.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks.

"Yeah."

Her response is quick, but true. She did sleep well. For the first time since coming home, she didn't find herself staying up and worrying until two in the morning about this baby thing.

Maybe there was something liberating about the fact that little Jack heard her conversation with Tony on the porch and proceeded to run up and down the street, loudly sharing the news of her pregnancy and effectively saving her the trouble of telling everyone. Even though it eventually lead to the question about the father, which lead to a really fun conversation about her sex life. Standing in front of her whole family and trying to think of a euphemism for 'I didn't use a condom when I was with Bucky, but I used one with Tony' turned out to be surprisingly hard.

It could've been that, but more than likely it was just the comfort of Tony's arms and the feel of his hand stroking her hair until she fell asleep. Her problems hadn't magically disappeared, if anything, they'd multiplied. With Bucky still frozen in a box in Wakanda and Tony confessing his feelings for her, this baby couldn't have worse timing.

And yet, her decision to keep it was instant. Standing over that pregnancy test in her hotel room in LA, she went over the options, and maybe it was years of Catholic school finally catching up to her, or just the sudden hormone overload, but the thought of not keeping it made her cry.

Dad brings over some butter and toast for her before returning to the stove. "Did you like the new mattress?"

Pearl looks up from buttering her toast with a quirked eyebrow. "What are you talking about? I've had the same mattress since the 90's."

"Yes, but we just bought a new one for Philip's room." There's a knowing smile spread across his lips as he flips his omelette, and as he looks over to see her stunned expression, he laughs. "Don't forget, I know everything that goes on in this house."

"No, you don't. I have plenty of secrets," Pearl says with a smile.

"From your mother, maybe."

Biting into her toast, Pearl rolls her eyes. Dad pours coffee for himself and brings it over to the table.

"Is it serious? You and him?" he asks.

She shrugs, glancing out the window at the sun beginning to rise.

"Patrick thinks he's too old. It makes him uncomfortable."

"A lot of things make Patrick uncomfortable," Pearl says.

It isn't hard to imagine the many things Patrick's likely said about Tony. Especially since Penelope let it slip that she'd shared the TMZ article with the family some months ago, Pearl can just see Patrick fuming ever since. He's probably been furious at all the comments, not for misjudging her, but because she'd let herself get into a situation where people would assume the worst of her.

Age might be a part of it, but Pearl is sure it isn't the whole story.

Dad sits down, placing the omelette in front of him. "Give your brother some credit. He was very happy to find out about the baby."

"I believe he said sometimes good things happen, because I mess up."

Pearl says it dryly, but can't help but smile. The first time Patrick used that same phrase, was right before his wedding, referring of course to when Pearl visited him in San Francisco over summer break thirteen years ago, and, through a chain of events that started with a boy who lived in his building, ended up stealing a bottle of liquor from his cabinet and puking all over his girlfriend at the time. As he went to the dry cleaners with her puke-covered clothes the next morning, he met Nina.

In his wedding vows, he thanked Pearl for introducing the two of them, much to the confusion of almost every single guest except for a select few in the know.

"Well, we're all very happy for you, dear," dad says. "You'll be a good mother."

"You think?"

He nods, lifting his coffee cup. She could always count on dad to make her feel better.

After finishing her toast, she kisses the top of her father's head before heading back upstairs. Passing her room, she goes straight for Philip's. Tony's still sleeping, like normal people do at this hour, and as she crawls back into bed, he mutters something in his sleep and wraps an arm around her. His embrace is warm and welcoming, and she falls asleep with her head resting on his chest.

By the time he wakes up, she's moved over to the chair in the corner.

"What are you doing?" Tony asks, startling her so she almost drops her pen.

She looks over to see him barely awake, eyeing the notepad in her hands. "I'm writing down everything I need to deal with in my life before this baby comes."

"Ah." He sits up on the bed, swinging his legs to the side. Grabbing his watch, he checks the time before strapping it on his wrist. He reaches for his undershirt hanging off the bedpost to put it on. "What do you have on there? Stop having a life? Say goodbye to all your free time?"

"More like get a doctor, find a place to live, buy this and that," she says with a smile, meeting his eye. "Is that why you never had children? They'd ruin your life?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "Can you imagine me with a baby?"

"Fair enough."

As he finishes getting dressed, she taps her pen on the paper.

"Am I on that list?" he asks.

She looks down, as if to check, though she knows full well that his name is right at the top. "Yeah."

"Just forget I ever said anything and cross me off."

His response doesn't come as a surprise. He might have held her hand as the questions started rolling in at the family meeting and let her crawl into bed with him because she couldn't sleep, but he's not a baby guy. He's not about to start playing house with her, and she wouldn't want him to.

She wants to ask if it's __easy__ for him to just forget. If his words didn't really mean as much as she thought they did. She wants to tell him, that last night she dreamed they danced under a starry sky in Paris and he bought her the Eiffel Tower. That if it wasn't for this baby, __Bucky's__ baby, she could see them together.

But it wouldn't change anything, except maybe hurt him more.

"Alright?"

His voice snaps her out of thought. She nods and crosses him off the list.

A month later, as the first step of her new plan to build a stable life for her and the baby, and the second item on her list, Pearl packs up her belongings in LA and moves back to New York after Tony arranges for a transfer. She says goodbye to Gary, leaving him to train two new employees. He's not happy, so she cheers him up by sending him detailed accounts of her daily struggles to fit into a new work environment where everyone not only hates her for being pregnant, because they think it's a waste of time to teach her anything before maternity leave, but also hates her for ruining Pepper and Tony's epic love.

Because of the hostile environment, she begins spending her lunch hours three blocks from the office—at Stark Tower. Day by day, it starts to look more and more like a storage facility with boxes piling up against the walls, but Pearl doesn't mind the boxes or the movers or the steadily decreasing amount of furniture. She doesn't even mind Happy constantly reminding her not to sit on the boxes.

"Happy would really appreciate it if you could collect your things, so they don't get lost in the move," Tony says one day.

Pearl doesn't look up from the salad she's eating. "I already told him I don't have stuff here."

"I guess it's my red lipstick in the bathroom, then?"

"Yes," she says and smiles widely, meeting his eyes. "Okay, fine, I might have some stuff here."

Walking over to the bathroom, she runs her hand across the bare wall in the hallway, peeking into the emptied out rooms on the way. She finds her lipstick and a whole makeup bag full of other items neatly placed in a little paper bag on the counter. In Tony's bedroom she finds a bag of clothes she doesn't remember leaving there, all perfectly folded up.

"I still can't believe you're selling Stark Tower," she says, coming out into the living room again.

"Avengers Tower."

"Yeah, no. It'll always be Stark Tower to me."

"Why?"

She shrugs. "When I was in school, I used to see this building everyday on my way to the library and I just always thought it was so cool. Like, I'd love to have my name on the side of a building."

It could be called Pearl Tower, or the Pearl Palmer Building. Or maybe go for the full alliteration and call it Pearl Palmer Plaza. Not that she's given it much thought.

Tony's voice snaps her back to reality. "Maybe someday, but for now, would you settle for an apartment with your name on the door?"

"What?"

"I considered Pearl Street for the name alone, but you'd hate living so far Downtown, so I dismissed that idea."

He talks as if she's supposed to know what the hell he's saying. But she doesn't, so she simply stares at him blankly. "Considered it for what?"

"Your apartment," he says, and when she still doesn't react like he's clearly expecting her to, he continues, "I got you one."

"You, um, you got me an apartment?" she asks slowly.

"Uh-huh."

She waits for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. "What does that mean? You rented it or-"

He looks at her as if the term is unfamiliar, sort of in that 'are you kidding me?' kind of way. "I don't rent."

"I see." It's slowly beginning to dawn on her that he is actually serious. "So, um, where?"

"Corner of 70th and Park. Two bedrooms, two baths. I was going to go bigger, but Happy said you'd appreciate something more modest."

"Modest?" She lets out a nervous laugh. "Two bedrooms, two baths on Park Avenue… That's… What, three million?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "Give or take."

"Right." She nods slowly. She's not exactly up-to-date on the Upper East Side real estate market, and his casual response doesn't really say anything. What is the ballpark for something like three million? She breathes in. "Okay, so, if I accept, how-"

"You don't have a place to live and you're thinking about turning me down?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "I understood when you didn't want to move to the compound, but we're talking about Park Avenue here."

"I get that," she says. "I just don't know how I feel about living in your apartment. Would I pay rent or-"

"Why are you making this unnecessarily complicated?" he asks, mocking a frown, and takes a few steps towards her. "It's your apartment. Your name's on all the paperwork."

Her mouth suddenly goes dry. "I own… a Park Avenue apartment?" She can barely get the words out.

"Can we at least go see it before you freak out?"

Before she can even reply, he's already grabbed her coat and thrown it to her.

Pearl's been in fancy buildings before, and the one Tony takes her to isn't anything out of the ordinary, but it sure is beautiful. Everything from the Park Avenue address to the awning to the doorman to the marble floor in the lobby just screams money. Before they step into the elevator, a vaguely familiar looking well-dressed man steps out with a younger woman, probably a third of fourth wife. She gives Pearl an uppity look as they walk by.

"Everything's been recently renovated, but if there's something you don't like, we can change it," Tony says as they stand in the living room of the empty apartment.

As Pearl walks around, her high heels knocking against the hardwood floors, he leans his hand against the door frame. The two bedrooms both have closets bigger than her old Brooklyn apartment. The master bathroom has one of those bathtubs with golden feet, and though she's quite sure they're not actual gold, she's kind of afraid to ask. A door in the living room leads out to a large balcony overlooking Park Avenue.

"What do you think?"

She turns to see him standing at the door. "It's beautiful."

"But?"

"We talked about this." She shakes her head.

"No, you talked." He walks over. "I never agreed to not help you."

"I never said you can't help me. I appreciate everything you've done for me," she says. "But I don't need your money."

"I know you don't."

"It kind of seems like you don't." It comes out a little snappier than she means it to, but maybe she should mean it.

"You're mad."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course I'm mad! You can't just do things like this."

"I can do whatever I want," he says and leans his hand against the terrace railing.

"Yeah, I've noticed," she says. "But I'm not a child. I want to be in charge of my own life."

"And __I__ don't want you to move to Ohio."

Once again, his words require some processing before they fully register. Her whole face scrunches up as she tries to find some logic in them. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Your sister said you were considering it."

Of course Penny went and meddled. She wouldn't live up to her title of overbearing Catholic mother if she didn't. Much to Tony's confusion, Pearl starts laughing.

"I said it _might_ be nice to have family around when the baby comes, and she jumped to her own conclusions like always," she says.

His eyes drill into hers, as if to see whether or not she's lying. As he appears to search for what to say, it becomes clear that this isn't about him thinking she's some poor single mother in distress.

"Did you spend three million dollars to keep me here?" she asks, fiddling with her diamond necklace.

He shrugs. "Give or take."

"Do we need to talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He glances out at the city before turning to her again with a wry look. "I just didn't want you to move. I'm a selfish guy."

He heads back inside while she's left there with a million questions she can't ask, because he won't talk. Even if he did, she's not sure she'd want to hear it.

Still, the gesture makes her smile. It's unnecessary, way too much and unacceptable. But it's so __Tony__. For the past few weeks, it's seemed as though nothing ever happened between them, and Pearl knows it's bad, but a part of her is happy to find out he hasn't been so quick to forget.

Because she hasn't.

She follows him inside. "What now?"

Tony points to the bags of clothing and makeup left by the door. "You could unpack."

It's not a perfect situation and Pearl knows she can't just accept it and live in his apartment like a leech, but for now, there's no point in arguing. So, she pulls out the first thing in the bigger bag, unfolding it in front of her. It's a dark red MIT sweatshirt.

"This is yours," she says, looking over to him.

"Keep it," he says instantly. "It looks better on you."

In September, Pearl checks off item number three and visits Babies "R" Us to get everything she could possibly need for the baby and a few things she probably won't, just in case. Tony doesn't really seem like a guy who'd enjoy shopping for strollers and baby bottles, but much to her surprise, he tags along.

Between the pacifiers and burp cloths, she feels something she's never felt before. So far, the pregnancy has let her enjoy the wonderful delights of heartburn that keeps her awake at night and morning sickness that lasts all freaking day, but the baby, now the size of a coconut according to her doctor, has never kicked before. It's small, but it's there.

"I think the baby just kicked," she says, putting her hand over her stomach.

Tony turns around to look at her from over the shelves. "It did?"

"Yeah, come feel this."

He puts back the high-tech baby monitor in his hands and walks over. Seeing his skeptical face, she takes his hand, placing it on her stomach.

"It's weird. It feels like somebody's poking me with a tiny foam finger," she says.

"Maybe it's a sports fan."

She laughs and moves his hand around, trying to locate the kicking for him. It's a surreal feeling, having an actual person growing inside her, but at the same time the baby feels more real than ever before. Up until now, it's been an abstract entity. Just something that happened and started turning her life upside down.

"Hi! How can I help you today?"

Pearl looks up to see a super peppy sales assistant, perfectly matching her overly enthusiastic voice, standing in front of them with a huge, fake smile and an expectant look. Tony drops his hand.

"Oh, hi," Pearl says. "I actually have a list."

She digs through her bag to find the detailed list of things the internet and the baby books have told her she needs and hands it over to the girl.

The girl, sporting cutesy pigtails in her bottle blonde hair, scans through the list, nodding as she goes, before looking up again, still smiling. "You've done your research. These are all great picks."

"You deliver, right?" Pearl asks.

"Of course, miss." She looks from Pearl to Tony and back again. "Is this your first child?"

"Yeah."

"Boy or girl?"

"She doesn't want to know," Tony says, earning himself a glare from Pearl.

"But you do!" the girl shrieks out. Something about her voice reminds Pearl of Penny's sorority girl days. "That is __so__ sweet! Have you guys talked about names?"

"Uh, not really," Pearl says and quickly reaches into her pocket. "Here's my address and my credit card. Does Monday work for you?"

After their next stop, the diaper bags at Gucci, Tony offers her a ride home, but she declines on the count of traffic. She finds a seat on the crowded 6 train and slips off her heels, cursing her own stupid decision not to bring a pair of sneakers to change into and the baby for making her feet swell to twice their normal size. The man on the opposite seat seems to observe her keenly, and as she glances at him to determine whether to avoid all eye contact or to tell him to go to hell, his face lights up with recognition.

"You're that girl!" he says, causing others around to look over.

"Excuse me?" Pearl asks. In her experience, the term 'that girl' has rarely been followed up with something positive. It's always been 'that girl who slept with my boyfriend' or 'that girl who sang bad karaoke last night.'

"So, what's he like?" he asks, leaning ahead with his elbows propped up on his knees.

She shakes her head while putting her shoes back on just in case she needs to make a quick exit. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tony Stark! You're the girl having his baby, right?"

Nearly dropping the other shoe, Pearl looks up at the guy in shock, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Is he really an asshole or is that just an act?" he asks. "What about Captain America, where's he at? I always liked him better, but now I don't know what to believe. Is he still a good guy? I'd like to think so, but you never know. What about that dude up in Harlem? You know him? I heard he's-"

"Seriously, what are you talking about?"

He looks almost offended as she cuts off his rambling, raising his hands a little like he's surrendering.

"Fine, don't tell me." He leans back in his seat again, crossing his arms. He mutters under his breath, "But I know you're her. The pictures are pretty clear."

Pictures? Oh, God, what pictures?

"I guess you could do worse. Even if he is an asshole, at least he's a rich asshole."

As the train reaches the next stop, her stop, Pearl rushes out as fast as she can with her heels and her shopping bags. She runs up the stairs, carefully trying to avoid the commuter rush, and pulls out her phone the second she reaches street level and a decent signal. She pulls up all the gossip websites in her bookmarks to find herself on the front page of almost half. Tapping one article open, she tries to remain calm.

 ** _ **Tony Stark: Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and DAD TO BE?**_**

 _ _Twitter is abuzz with all things baby! Tony Stark was spotted out today with his presumed girlfriend__ _—_ _ _and she's pregnant! The adorable pair stopped by Barney's to stock up on baby clothes and shared a heartfelt moment at Babies 'R' Us. Our sources tell us the young woman is in fact Pearl Palmer, an employee of Stark Industries, who has been romantically linked to the Iron Man on more than one occasion. In July, Stark's PR team released an official statement confirming the rumored split from Pepper Potts, leaving our devoted readers to wonder if this blonde bombshell played a part in it.__

Blonde bombshell? Patrick would have a field day with that. Pearl scrolls through the pictures to find that someone managed to capture the exact moment when Tony's hand was on her stomach, and while the other pictures aren't quite so touchy-feely, they're definitely enough to make her and Tony look like a couple.

 _ _Our experts estimate the baby will be born early next year. These two certainly didn't waste any time! We're still waiting for a statement from either side to confirm, but it looks like the Stark fortune will finally get an heir.__

She rushes home and immediately calls Tony.

"You saw it?" he asks.

Kicking off her shoes, Pearl sighs. "Of course I saw it. Some weirdo started asking about it on the subway."

"You should really stop taking the subway. I'll get you a car and a driver."

"That's not really the point here." She rolls her eyes. "Do you want me to contact them or can your PR people handle it?"

"Just ignore it. It'll blow over."

His answer leaves her stunned for a moment. "What?"

"In two days nobody will even remember this."

"But-"

"Trust me."

In some ways, he's right. Social media moves fast and it's not long until Tony Stark's alleged baby becomes old news. And then someone spots her getting out of Happy's car outside her doctor's office and the tweets start up again. She and Tony visit Shake Shack and manage to spark up an online conversation about pregnancy cravings and how having a man who takes you to Shake Shack, is somehow a relationship goal. It doesn't matter how many times she explains it to her co-workers, they refuse to believe the baby isn't Tony's. Even her family starts asking questions.

When she's featured in yet another Buzzfeed article, 'Why Tony Stark's Baby Mama Is Your New Pregnancy Style Icon', she decides to talk to Tony's PR reps. They tell her to just let it be.

"People love babies," one of them says as the other one nods along. They have names, Pearl is quite sure of it, but she can never remember what they are, and it doesn't help that Tony calls them Thing One and Thing Two. They smile in unison. "The Accords have been a PR nightmare with the government controlling the media, and people aren't buying the story they're selling. This is exactly the kind of fluff we need them to focus on right now."

Pearl sighs. "How many times do I have to tell you it's not his baby? I'm not going to lie and say that it is."

The brunette one with a British accent looks at her with pleading eyes. "Lying is so negative. Just focus on the positive. We're trying to rebuild Tony's image and this is perfect, darling"

"How exactly is this perfect?"

"We need him to seem more human. Softer, more relatable," one says and the other one continues, "Kind and giving."

They highlight their words with exaggerated hand movements, and as Pearl stares at them while they continue to think up new buzzwords, she becomes more and more annoyed. Tension spreads to every inch of her body while they yammer on and on about nothing.

Grinding her teeth, she conjures up the best fake smile she can. "I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but how is this going to improve Tony's image? The truth __will__ come out."

They look to one another and then back at her. "Look, we can issue a statement asap, if that's what you want," the brunette says. "But people seem to love you, and if they find out you're having another man's baby right __now__ , this will look like a publicity stunt. We don't want people to think he's sticking by your side because a couple of PR reps told him to."

The last sentence lingers in Pearl's mind. She has to ask. "Did you?"

They look at her, then at each other. Then they laugh. "As if he'd listen to us."

"No, this is all him."

"We know this sounds crazy, and he told us to obey _your_ every wish, so just say the word and it's done."

"But we're pretty good at our jobs. I mean, we made sure the security footage from that hotel elevator never made the news."

"Yeah. That thing was a borderline sex tape."

They talk fast and a lot, but stop for air upon seeing Pearl's confusion. She looks from one PR rep to the other. "So, we wait?"

"Yes, darling. When the time is right, we'll tip off the media about the truth. Hopefully, it'll create a big buzz. Mister Stark can address the media briefly, say he's known all along and ask them to respect your privacy."

"And that'll create even more questions, so we'll get you an interview, where you'll charm everyone and tell them all about your wonderful friendship."

"Just keep doing what you've been doing, because the public loves you."

As Pearl leaves their office, she's still not a hundred percent sure about the plan, but she tries to be rational. Maybe they know better. After all, they're the PR professionals and she's always been the girl with a bad reputation.

By the time October sweeps in, Pearl's goal to become the greatest, most self-sufficient mother in the universe is almost complete. She's read all the baby books, decorated the nursery in a gender neutral grays and pastels, joined a birthing class full of overly excited pregnant women, quit the birthing class because of said women, and learned to cook. Kind of. She invites Tony over one night to be her test subject.

"Isn't this just your world famous tomato sauce, but with chicken?" he asks after taking a few bites.

"Well, I'm taking baby steps," she says and sits down with a plate of her own. She points to her stomach. "It'll be a while before this thing can even eat solid food, anyway."

"How was your doctor's appointment? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Pearl says. "Baby is growing and I'm getting fat."

"You're not fat. You're beautiful."

She glares at him from underneath her brow. "If you say I'm glowing, I'm going to hit you."

After dinner they move out onto the balcony. Apart from the baby's room, it's the only space Pearl has finished decorating. She makes them some hot chocolate, and they sit on the comfortable armchairs. The fairy lights she's put up try to compete with the lights of the city. As the chilly air seeps into her bones, Pearl makes a note to buy some sort of a heater. Her baby plan might be one step away from completion, but her list of things to buy for the apartment just keeps growing. To warm up she wraps herself in a large blanket while he adds a little whiskey to his mug.

"Peterson says you've been doing a great job," he says as the conversation turns to work.

"Who?"

"Your boss? Short guy, mustache?"

"That's Murphy," she says with a smile.

"Well, whoever." He glances at his watch. "It's getting late."

Tony finishes up his third mug, more whiskey than actual hot chocolate at this point, and gets up.

"You could stay over," Pearl says. "I promise I won't try to take advantage of you."

His head whips in her direction so fast she immediately regrets saying it. "What?"

"Nothing. Just a bad joke."

"I don't get it."

"It's nothing. It's just…" She hesitates for a bit. "This pregnancy is making me feel extremely… sexually charged."

He raises an eyebrow. "More than usual?"

"Oh, shut up. I should never tell you anything."

He laughs. She unwraps herself from the blanket and grabs their mugs to bring them inside, gesturing for him to bring the bottle of whiskey. In the kitchen she rinses the mugs with hot water. Behind her, she hears the bottle hit her wooden counter top with a soft thud.

"All jokes aside, I could," he clears his throat, "uncharge you."

His suggestion makes her drop the mug she's holding into the sink. He didn't drink that much, she's sure of it. The approaching footsteps prepare her for what's next, so she's not surprised when his hand hand grazes her arm and the other one settles where her waist used to be. She trembles at his touch, but gives into it, if only for a moment.

"Tony," she says and takes a deep breath. "Let's not make things complicated."

"This is just one friend helping out another." He sweeps the hair away from her neck before placing one soft kiss right below her ear. She inhales sharply and closes her eyes while he does it again. "Nothing complicated about that."

As his lips glide over to the nape of her neck and his hand reaches for hers, intertwining their fingers, her heart races. She knows she should pull away, turn around, say something, anything, but she's too distracted by his body pressing up against hers.

"Tony, we're standing in three million dollars worth of complicated," she says, trying to regain composure.

"Just say the word and I'll stop."

She shivers at the feel of his whispering breath against her skin. Lifting her arm up, he spins her around to face him, and as their eyes meet, she knows the reasonable thing to do would be to walk away. Make a clean break and stop pretending that any of this is normal.

Life isn't a fairy tale. There's no version of this, where they live happily ever after. There's no version, where the man who doesn't want children ends up raising another man's child. And there is _absolutely_ no version, where they can go from casually sleeping together, to him confessing he's fallen for her, and back again.

The reasonable thing to do would be to walk away.

The very loud ringing of her phone wakes Pearl up the next morning. She grabs it off the cardboard box temporarily functioning as a nightstand and tiptoes into the living room. The voice on the other end is one she recognizes instantly. Their exchange is very short, barely a full sentence between them, with an even shorter goodbye.

With every step she takes walking back to the bedroom, her heart sinks a little more. She stops by the door, clutching her phone in her hand.

"It's four in the morning. What was that about?"

The city lights filter in through the curtains, making him barely visible in the darkness. As her eyes adjust, she sees he's rolled over to his side and propped himself up, the sheet draped around his naked body.

"The last thing on my to-do list," she says quietly.

"Oh. Him."


	36. The Letter

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX  
** **THE LETTER**

* * *

 _ _Dear Tony,__

 _ _It's not easy for me to write this, and I'm sure it won't be easy to read.__

 _ _You've been a part of my life for longer than most and our time together has meant the world to me. It hasn't always been easy, but it's always been exciting. I've never really been able to explain what we have to anyone. Complete strangers come up to me and ask me what it's like to date you, and I don't have an answer for them.__

 _ _I tell them you're a wonderful man and I'm lucky to have you, and I'm not lying. But we never really dated. I don't know what that would be like. I know I'm not supposed to bring this up, because we're forgetting you ever said anything and moving on, but after the other night it's impossible for me not to.__

 _ _A part of me just wants to live in denial and blame the pregnancy for all of this. Just pretend I was acting on some hard-wired evolutionary need for a partner, or that I simply couldn't control my hormone driven libido. But I can't. Denial lead us into this situation, and I think it's brutal honesty that'll get us out.__

 _ _I used to think I could put sex in another box and my feelings in another one, and they'd never mix, but I hadn't met you yet. To be perfectly honest, I never thought about the possibility of us together, really together, until you said you were falling for me, and I can't just forget that. I don't know how you're feeling right now, or if that's changed, and I won't pretend to. I've done enough pretending. But I'd like to think the other night was more than casual sex for you, too. If it wasn't, I'm fine with that, but you do things that make me think you still feel something.__

 _ _I don't regret it. I don't regret a single minute I've spent with you. I just know I can't be around you anymore. There's no happy ending for us. We both know it, and while I would love to enjoy your company before the inevitable happens, I don't think we can get out of this unscathed. It's time to face the reality that we can't give each other what we need.__

 _ _By the time you read this, I'm already on a plane. After this trip, I'm going straight home to Ohio. I've moved the apartment under your name and turned in my letter of resignation. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance to respond, but this isn't easy. I don't want to write this letter. I don't want to leave, but I've reached a point in my life where I have to think beyond what I want, and I fear that seeing you would make me forget all reason.__

 _ _Neither of us has friends to spare, so I hope one day we can be friends again, but I'll understand if you'd rather not see me again. It's a risk I have to take, no matter how much it hurts.__

 _ _Please know that I do love you.__

 _ _Pearl__

"What do you think?"

"This is heartbreaking," Happy says, looking up from the letter, his face visibly upset. He folds it back up and sticks it in its envelope, shaking his head. "And you want __m__ _ _e__ to give this to him?"

He pops open the trunk of his car and lifts Pearl's suitcase onto the curb. She leans against the car, crossing her arms, and shrugs. "If you don't feel comfortable, I can just mail it."

Still waving the envelope, Happy looks up at a plane flying just overhead. "You could've told me you were leaving when you asked for a ride, you know."

"You would've told him."

"Damn straight."

Pearl rolls her eyes. "I'll just mail it."

"No, I'll do it. Of course."

As Pearl is about to thank him, his phone rings. He takes a quick look before muting it.

"Was that Tony?" she asks, a cold shiver running down her spine as if she's about to get caught doing something forbidden.

"No, it's Peter. I swear, I've __almost__ grown to like him."

She smiles and grabs her suitcase, lifting up the pull.

"Are you sure this is how you want to leave?" he asks.

"I'm not really sure about anything right now," she says with a sigh before quickly composing herself. "But this is for the best."


	37. Hindsight Is Twenty-Twenty

****CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN  
**** **HINDSIGHT IS TWENTY-TWENTY**

* * *

Life was so much easier when Bucky was still on ice.

It's a horrible thing to say, and Pearl feels awful for even thinking it. He's the father of her child and he should have all the information. He deserves the chance to know his child. But as long as he remained frozen, Pearl didn't even have to think about telling him about the baby and with the whole world besides her family believing the baby to be Tony's, nobody was asking questions about her baby daddy. The whole thing became a problem for the un-foreseeable future.

Bucky was barely a blip on her radar, excluding a few weird dreams. Though her doctor did say they were completely normal, dreaming about giving birth to a baby with a metal arm wasn't exactly pleasant experience. At least it was much nicer than the one where Bucky shot the baby in the head, completely convinced it was a HYDRA operative.

But as her heels touch the tarmac in Wakanda, the un-foreseeable future becomes the very real present.

She's got all the clichés down. He doesn't need to be involved, if he doesn't want to. She doesn't expect anything from him, but she's not about to shut him out. She's going to tell him all the nice, grown up sentiments that don't really solve any actual problems, like the fact that he's in Wakanda and she's not, usually. Or the fact that he's a wanted man who doesn't even remember her. Not to mention the fact that it's barely been thirty-six hours since she last rolled around naked with a man who is not the father of her baby. The kind of problems normal people don't face when having a baby. The kind of problems it's impossible to prepare answers for.

So, she'll start with the clichés and depending on what he says, she'll just wing the rest.

The flight attendant leads her to a car waiting right on the tarmac. As Pearl slides into the backseat as gracefully as she can with her extra weight, she's surprised to see a familiar face.

"Oh, my God," Pearl squeals, reaching over and grabbing Steve's shoulders before he can do anything but convey shock with his eyes. She wraps him in a warm hug, which he reciprocates. She lets go just as the car takes off and asks, "When did you grow a beard?"

Raising an eyebrow, Steve gestures towards her belly. "When did you grow _that_?"

"We may have some catching up to do."

They're driven to a small clearing among trees with a few huts and a lake. Small Wakandan children run around but stop as the car pulls up. Steve points out one of the huts, and Pearl gets out of the car, grabbing the attention of the children. They watch and laugh as her heels dig into the soil. After a few steps, she slips her feet out of them, leaving the shoes stuck to the ground.

Pearl pulls back the curtain leading to the hut. Bucky looks up from his book, immediately getting up. She steps inside and lets the curtain drop back. The shuffling of little feet and hushed voices from the outside carry through. Looking at the man standing just a few feet away, she can feel her breathing get heavier. He looks the same as before, still missing an arm and his hair still long.

His eyes seem fixated on her stomach, his expression unreadable.

"Hi."

No response.

"Steve says you're all good now. No more triggers."

Again, no response. Steve might have explained the state of Bucky's programming, but he conveniently left out all information about his mental state beyond that. His intense stare and lack of words remind Pearl of the first time they met.

Looking around, she understands why Bucky's been brought here. Nothing but the sounds of happy children, who seem to have stopped eavesdropping and returned to their football, and birds chirping can be heard around them. He has books and notepads lying around. It's simple. Peaceful.

"I'm happy for you," she says, finally eliciting a reaction as he looks up into her eyes. He almost looks sad, making her wonder, again, if he's been rebooted a little too much. She takes one last deep breath. "Anyway, I thought you might want to know you're going to be a father."

And then she waits.

She waits for the wide-eyed, shock-filled expression and the inevitable questions of how can she be sure, how did this happen and what does it mean. She waits for him to say he doesn't even know her. For him to faint or scream.

She waits for something, but it never comes. He simply stands there with the same, nondescript look. Almost sad, but not really. Then he finally speaks.

"I'm sterile," Bucky says.

For a moment, Pearl forgets to breathe. Her heart thumps loudly in her chest, as if to remind her that even though at this moment it feels like she's floated right out of her body and into a completely different universe, she's still a living organism. When she breathes again, a cold chill runs through her whole body. She looks up at him again, now absolutely convinced he looks sad.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Positive. The doctors here confirmed it as well. All that radiation… I should've told you earlier." He looks down. "I'm sorry. I wanted to, when we were on that plane to Ohio, talking about kids and you said you wanted them someday, but I just couldn't."

She sighs, not knowing what to say next. She was barely prepared to tell him he's the father and suddenly he's not. The possibility never even crossed her mind, and in hindsight it feels really stupid. Condoms break all the time.

A realization hits her suddenly. "Did you write that down?"

He shakes his head.

"Bucky?" she asks cautiously. "Do you remember?"

He nods.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

After a moment of stunned silence, Pearl bursts out laughing. She doesn't mean to, because it's not like it's funny, but the absurdity of the situation leaves her with little options. The universe definitely has a sense of humor.

"Right. Yeah. Sure. Of course you do," she says, trying to control the laughter after noticing the weird look on his face. "That's perfect."

"So, this is…"

"Tony Stark's," Pearl says, and it's like the information finally registers in her brain. Not the part where Bucky isn't the father, because that hit her like a wrecking ball, but the part where Tony is. She looks down, running a hand across her stomach, and sighs. This opens up a whole new set of problems.

"Well, that makes…" Bucky drifts off. "Actually, that doesn't make any sense."

Pearl looks up again. "What?"

"That would mean he's the man you were talking about last time."

"He is."

"And you just failed to mention you were sleeping with the guy who shot off my arm?"

"How was that any of your business?"

"It would've been nice to know before we jumped into bed together."

She stares at him for a moment to see if he's actually angry or just a little annoyed before deciding on the former. His brows have inched closer towards one another and his lips are pursed. And he's staring back, like he's waiting for something. Like he's waiting for an explanation.

"Okay, you are not allowed to be mad at me," she says firmly. "You were gone for a year. I got over you."

"And then you got under Stark," he says without missing a beat.

Taken aback, Pearl scoffs. "What are you, jealous?"

"Six days ago they pulled me out of the freezer, fixed me and put me in a coma to give my brain time to heal," he says, still staring into her eyes. "When I woke up, you were the first thing I asked about."

"Bucky…"

"Then I saw Steve with a beard and realized we weren't in Ohio anymore."

Pearl remains silent. She didn't even stop to think about how disorienting it must've been for him to wake up and suddenly be able to remember everything.

"The last year and a half came back to me eventually, but it still feels like yesterday that I told you I love you and then pretended to fall asleep, because I knew you weren't ready to hear it." He looks down, the angry look fading away. "And I know you're not there anymore, but I am."

Quietly, she says, "I guess you've got every right to be jealous."

"This just isn't the ending I imagined."

When Bucky looks up again, looking like he's just a careful nudge away from shattering into a million pieces, all Pearl wants to do is wrap her arms around him, squeeze him tight and tell him everything will be alright, but the possibility of that sending out the wrong message worries her — for about a nanosecond. He doesn't flinch away from her touch, instead returning the embrace the best that he can with just one arm. They stand there as he rests his head on top of hers, breathing heavily and stroking her hair.

Then the tears come, and she doesn't try to stop them. It would be pointless, as proven by an ad on the subway last week that advertised college courses for senior citizens. At first, Pearl thought about an old grandma knitting to pass the time in class as everyone around her was double tapping or swiping left and right, but it soon evolved into this image of the grandma going back to school because she's been laid off and can't find work without a degree and the bank wants the house she's lived in for forty years and her husband can't help, because he died last year. And then Pearl cried and, as people started looking at her funny, wondered whether or not she should really stop riding the subway.

Just like she's crying now, except this time it's not about some imaginary fantasy or the starving children around the world or the unwanted pets at the animal shelter. It's not about the hormones. It's Bucky and the universe and its horrible sense of humor.

He pulls away from her and lifts up her chin with his finger. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I know what it's like to wake up to a completely different world. A world without you," she says, trying to swallow the tears. "But I can't even imagine what this is like."

"It's better."

"What?"

"I love you. I don't know how to change that. You don't love me anymore. There's nothing I can do to change that." Bucky pauses. "But you're here. You're alive. I can at least take comfort in the fact that I didn't kill you."

A cold shiver runs down her spine and as she wraps her cardigan tighter around her waist, Bucky reaches over to stroke her arm. Pearl glances at it and he pulls away immediately, his face immediately more reserved.

"Sorry," he says.

"It's okay," she says with a faltering smile. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I should, right? That would be normal?"

Pearl shrugs. "I don't know. There's nothing normal about any of this."

"I don't want you to leave." He stops to let out a frustrated sigh. "I just don't know how to act right now or what to say. You're the person I talk to about my problems, but now…"

"I'm the problem," she says as he trails off, maybe trying to find a nicer way to put it. He nods, and it shouldn't hurt. It's not rational. She didn't come here to get him back or to start up a happy little family. She's not in love with him anymore.

But it hurts.

Because she loves him. As a friend and an important part of her life. As a human being deserving of love and compassion. And even if she'd never admit to it, all it would take is a few choice words, a touch here and there, and she'd fall for him again, just as fast as last time.

"Are you happy, now?" he asks and hesitates for a moment before continuing, "Does he make you happy?"

"You don't want to hear about this."

"No, but I need to."

"I think he could," Pearl says, giving him the most truthful and clear answer she possibly can right now.

"What does that mean?"

"It's complicated. I thought this was yours, so we're not like together or anything."

"But you love him?"

"I do." Saying it out loud feels weird, but it's true. Complicated, but true.

"Then he's the luckiest man on Earth," he says, and there's a little glimmer in his eyes, a hint of that old Bucky Barnes charm. He holds her gaze, and suddenly she remembers just how beautiful his eyes are. "Especially because I don't think he deserves you. I know I didn't."

Pearl smiles. "I'm far from perfect, Bucky."

A beeping noise erupts from her bag, startling her. She knows there's nothing wrong with staring into Bucky's eyes and she knows the noise most likely isn't caused by a text from Tony, because why would he contact her after she ditched him with that stupid letter, and most of all, she knows even if it was a text from Tony, it would not mean she was caught staring into Bucky's eyes. But, she's startled nonetheless.

He looks at her a little funny as she pulls the phone out. And it's nothing. Well, not nothing, since it's not literally a blank message, but in the grand scheme of things, a reminder text from her doctor's office isn't anything to be startled about.

"How do you fall out of love?"

She looks up from her phone again, unsure of how to answer as her own methods have always been just a little off. She shrugs. "It takes time. And distance, I think."

"Well, I have plenty of those."

"All I really know is to just let yourself feel it. If you're sad, be sad. If you're angry, I don't know, go chop some wood."

"What did you do?" he asks, moving over to sit on his bed.

"Oh, me? I fled the country, pretended to be fine and ended up crying on the bathroom floor while a Swedish guy undressed himself in my bed."

"That does sound like you."

He smiles. She smiles, too, and sits next to him. From the bed she can see through his little window. The children run around, laughing.

"Do you think there's one perfect person for everyone?" he asks.

"No."

"No?"

Pearl shakes her head for emphasis. "Of course not. That's the most depressing thing I've ever heard."

"I guess that means you still don't believe in fate?"

"I like to blame the universe for things that go wrong in my life, but I do realize a lot of my problems could've been avoided if I'd stopped to think for a second before… well, before making any decisions."

"Such as?"

She looks down. "Well, it wasn't exactly a good idea to have sex with you."

"Which time?" he asks, and she's about to answer immediately but looking up, she spots a grin developing on his mouth.

Playfully hitting him in the arm, she says, "Quite possibly all of them, but I'm talking about the last time. If I didn't have sex with you, I would've known instantly that this wasn't yours. And if I would've been really smart, I would've believed myself way back when I said us getting together is a bad idea, and not let you talk me into it."

He frowns. "Are you saying you regret it?"

"No, of course not. I would have regretted not taking that chance." Pearl sighs, running her fingers through her hair. "I don't know, Bucky. I think this baby is changing my whole view on life. Or at least trying to."

She looks at him and his sympathetic face and it hits her. He's the one going through heartbreak right now. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm making this all about me again. I guess I don't have a lot of people to talk to like this."

"You don't talk to Stark?"

She laughs. It's not a funny laugh or a total outburst. It's just one of those sarcastic, dry laughs. "I can't talk to him about you. I can't even talk to him about him."

"You know what's strange?" he asks. "This feels completely normal. Us, talking like this."

"I know."

Bucky places his hand on her cheek, softly stroking, and when he leans in to kiss her, she's not surprised, nor does she pull away. It's soft and familiar and she kisses him back, knowing it's the last time.

"Sorry. I had to get that out of my system."

"Trust me, I get it," she says, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

The inevitable goodbye looms over them. She doesn't want to say it, and maybe he doesn't want to either. But they both know this is it.

She lets go of his hand. "I should go. I slept through most of the flight but now I'm exhausted again. Pregnancy is such a magical time."

"You'll make a wonderful mother," he says.

"People keep saying that."

Smiling, Pearl gets up from his bed. The smile falters with her first step towards the exit and completely disappears with his next words.

"I'm happy for you."

She turns back. The sight of his face and the genuine expression on it creates a lump in her throat. "You're gonna make me cry again."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just-" He pauses. "I think I'll be okay."

"I know that, Bucky."

"Because there's still a lot of good stuff left in the world. Like babies and love and happiness."

"I know you're making fun of me, but I'm choosing to ignore it," Pearl says.

"I'm honestly not. I saw a therapist right after my coma and he's very professional and highly educated. I think I'll see him again. But he's more of a sit and listen kind of guy as opposed to someone who always has something to say." Bucky grins. "And he's not really the type to show up to work drunk wearing a mini dress."

"He sounds boring."

"He is." Bucky gets up from the bed and extends out his hand. "Until next time?"

Pearl glances at his hand before wrapping him into a close hug. Closing her eyes tightly, she fights back the tears.

"Until next time."


End file.
